Finding a Way
by Anlynne
Summary: When a strange stone falls into Hermione's hands, her life is forever changed.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

It was Hermione's favorite month, the autumn air like a fresh breath of the earth, the leaves dancing along the sidewalks. It was also her favorite part of the day. She would unlock her bookstore, inhale the scent of books and coffee. She flicked on the lights, and filled a mug with coffee and sat in her office. She placed her purse underneath her desk.

Within fifteen minutes her employees would come in and set up for the day. She went through the books while the distant talking outside became a lovely background noise.

When the books were done, she brought out the Daily Prophet from her purse, smoothing it over her newly cleared desk. It was an every day routine that she had from the day she bought the bookstore.

It was the first of its kind. It not only contained muggle books but wizarding books, as well. If she was not being humble, it was actually quite ingenious of her. All of the magical books were placed under a massive spell that caused every muggles gaze to pass over them. It was unfortunate that the shop didn't serve many wizard or witches, but it was a start for bringing the two world's together.

Hermione knew she was unlikely to see the day the Statue of Secrecy brought down. When she was a lawyer, she was unable to touch it. She took pride in what she was able to accomplish, creating a better world (one more equal for all creatures), but when that was done she stepped down. There was nothing else there for her and she decided that she wanted her quiet life, with her books, with her mornings of solitude.

Solitude. That was a good word for what her life had become. It was not as though it wasn't chosen, but she felt lonely. Incredibly lonely. She was surrounded with friends and her work, but there was something more that she was missing.

Three nights ago, she had stared up at the night sky, trying her best for sleep that had alluded her. It was a prayer for a love. She slept that night and dreamt of a man, his green eyes piercing and his gait long.

She had forgotten the prayer and went on with her peaceful mornings. Unfortunately, on that particular morning, it did not last long. Without knocking, a raven-haired man walked into her office, a thick package under his arm.

"Harry," she sighed happily. "Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

"I am. I'm on assignment." He shut the door behind him, securely locking it. That grabbed her attention, causing her to sit upright.

"This must be serious."

He set the brown wrapped package in front of her. "It is. I need you to look at this." He tapped it with his wand, and the wrappings fell away, revealing a velvet black box. He lifted the lid and inside was a smooth river stone.

Hermione leaned in closer to the unassuming object. It would have been unremarkable, if it weren't for the gold symbols circling its edges, glittering magnificently. She held her breath for three heart beats, before staring up at her old friend in wonderment.

"Wherever did you find this?"

"It was found in Norway by some British muggles there on holiday."

"Are the muggles okay? Did it have an effect on them?"

"No effect. They are postman friends of Mr. Weasley. He saw it and bought it off them. He didn't know what it was and didn't want it in the wrong hands. He was going to bring it to you, but I was there last night and I said I could give it to you."

She placed her hand on top of his. "Harry, I no longer work at the Ministry. Maybe this is best placed in the hands of someone with more experience with this."

"There is a backlog of unidentified magical objects at the Ministry, and Mr. Weasley wants to know."

"Fine," she agreed, "I'll do this for Mr. Weasley."

"Thank you."

Despite the muggles handling it without obvious injury, Hermione was reluctant. She reached inside the lowest drawer of her desk, withdrawing a pair of white magical gloves. She kept them especially for wizarding books that were determined to misbehave.

As soon as they were on, she lifted the stone out of its case, the runes shimmering. They were very old - ancient, even. She turned it over in her hands, allowing the light the play off the gold. "Beautiful," she breathed.

"Can you read it," Harry asked.

"No... It's... Odd..." Could there be a written system older than runes? Was there a part of history that faded with time?

She flipped the stone over and there were more runes in the same glittering circle. They, too, were foreign to her. She set the rock back down, ripping off her gloves, and setting back into her chair, teeth worrying her bottom lip. "It could be anything, Harry. A prophecy, a spell..."

"Spell? It's not in Latin."

She smiled gently. "Not all spells were written in Latin, Harry. Spells can be written in any language. I would love to keep this here with me."

"Are you sure you should be so close to it?"

He was remembering when they were hunting with Horcruxes. They had a terrible effect on her, Harry and Ron. He had a very good point, but there was something about those runes... She couldn't keep her eyes off of them. They were always her first love in school, it was a fascinating subject, but more than that, the energy that radiated off of them was nothing like a Horcrux.

"I'll be fine. If I'm not, you'll be the first one to know."

Harry gave in and nodded. "Be careful."

"I promise."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Hermione had debated internally whether she should have taken the stone home. She couldn't have very well left it, she decided, so she returned it to its box and brought it home.

She set it on her coffee table and left it to take a very hot shower and dress in red tartan pajamas. When she came back, she sat herself in front of it. It was so very ancient, what kind of magic could last through the centuries? How could it still glow?

She didn't tell Harry, but she suspected that it was not of their magic. It was just as well that he had given it to her, it deserved attention right away. Not that it changed. It remained the same, the magic steady.

Wand in hand, she cocked her head at it, thinking. She knew that performing any magic on it was risky, but she was much too curious. After all, she didn't bring it home to watch it.

"Revelio," she tapped it with the tip of her wand.

With bated breath she waited and soon the runes were shifting, reacting with her magic. Surprised that it reacted with the first spell, she drew herself up to her knees, drawing closer to the object, inspecting the runes that became brighter and brighter. It lit the whole room with the power of a dozen lamps. She fell back, shielding her eyes.

She heard a vibration and the light dissipated. She opened her eyes to see it shaking to the edge of the table. She didn't think about it, but reacted on instinct, catching the stone before it could fall to the floor.

It was cold; so cold that it nearly burned her skin. She dropped it on the table and looked at her hands, at the shimmering runes that sprinkled themselves across her skin, sinking in and disappearing.

She stared at the once innocent-looking stone. The runes remained there, permanently etched. She felt dizzy and nauseated and confused. She tried getting to her feet, but stumbled. So she reached out to the fireplace, hoping to gather a little Floo Powder to contact Harry, but she fell.

The floor was no longer there. She fell and continued to fall. It was a never ending spiral to which she closed her eyes against, her teeth clenched to keep herself from vomiting.

It was never ending, a realm of darkness and she felt suffocated. Then, she hit something, but it was not the warmth of her wood floor but marble. She grunted from the impact, and rolled over. The sweat from her forehead gathered and she leaned it against the coolness of her support. She cracked open her eyes enough to see a large room of columns, a long table of food and many, many people.

"Who is this," a booming voice echoed the hall.

She craned her neck, to see who the voice belonged to, but the dizziness hadn't subsided. The room spun in colors of white, gray and cold. She shivered, clenching her teeth, hoping she wouldn't vomit.

Someone was at her side, the hands small and warm, touching her head, her hair. She looked up in the face of a beautiful woman, her chestnut hair elegantly pulled back. She was dressed in a teal dress, but her chest and shoulders were encased in armor. She looked like a goddess.

"Who are you," she asked gently.

Hermione wanted to answer, but she couldn't lest she be sick. She breathed deeply, hoping for it all to pass. Where was she? Who was the woman? What was happening to her?

"Get the Healers! Now!" The woman ordered and a group of armored men ran from the scene.

A tall man came to her side. He was dressed oddly in emerald and black clothes that wrapped over his lithe figure. His black hair was slicked back, his nose long, lips thin. He placed his cold hand over her soaked hair, as if comforting her, but she could feel it, the magic coming from him. His poisoned green eyes scrutinized her before he spoke one word to her: "Sleep."

A wave came over her, engulfed her, and sleep was exactly what she did.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Hermione shifted. Whatever she laid on, it seemed to form perfectly to her body, as if she was lying on clouds. Her wild hair covered her face and she inhaled the scent of her coconut shampoo and she stretched her arms out, feeling the topmost cover. Except under her fingers was a stitching that she knew was not on her own. Suddenly disoriented, she opened her eyes and saw that she was in a large and opulent room.

The memories flooded her, her heart pounded, and she sat up straight. At least the dizziness had gone. She felt... Normal. Where she was, wasn't.

There was dark furniture where various books in leather bindings laid; the walls and floor were of pure dark gray marble. It was as if the room was made of darkness. It encased her. The only light came from the arched windows behind her, filtering through the hunter green curtains.

She was dressed in a white gown, her wand gone and those things suddenly made her feel much more vulnerable. Her only consoling thought was that Harry and Hannah would notice her absence, that they would somehow find her. Wherever she was...

Outside of the large wooden doors, she heard voices. They were getting progressively louder. How she wished she had George's Extendable Ears!

Slipping out from the thick and heavy blankets, she stood. She spotted a silk robe at the end of the bed and for modesty's sake, she put it on. She then padded her way to the door, keeping her breath shallow as she pressed her ear to the crack of the door. The conversation was muffled, but she could hear every word.

The voice of a woman spoke evenly. "Quiet yourself, son. The girl may still be asleep."

"What was something like that doing on Midgard? That type of magic? Anyone could have gotten through!"

"It was a spell out of love. It would never have harmed her."

"And yet she had to be sent to Healers! What do we know of that stone?"

"Very little. They are examining it, along with her possessions. Thus far, it appears that she is a witch."

"Nothing else is known?"

"These things take time," she soothed him. "Don't fret about it now. I have seen to this woman and she is comfortable. I expect you to guard this room."

"Me?"

"Son," she urged, "I need to discuss this situation with your father and the girl saw your face. You are familiar and are far better than our guards. This is not a request, but an order."

"Yes, my queen."

"Thank you, my son."

One pair of footsteps faded and Hermione stepped away just before the door opened. The man that stood there fixed her with a gaze of interest.

"It is impolite to eavesdrop."

"Observing," she countered weakly.

He seemed amused by that response.

A thousand questions ran through her mind, but she could only hope to get out of there. That was most important. "Thank you for your hospitality," she begun, choosing her words with care, "but I must return home."

The man raised one dark brow. "You don't plan to barrage me with inquiries?"

"If you insist... Where are am I?"

"Asgard."

In a step away from Legilimency, she was able to determine the truth of his words. She hated using it, even in the most extreme of cases. It was intrusive, but she had to know then of the seriousness of the situation. It appeared that he was telling the truth.

That truth was like a punch in her gut. Asgard. The home of Norse gods. They were stories that her mother told her when she was little. She grew up listening to the myths of Odin, Thor and... Loki. Loki Odinson.

"You're Loki."

He smiled. "Clever woman, you are."

She licked her lips. "Where is my wand?"

"That stick that you had on your person -"

"Wand," she corrected. "I need it back."

"That is impossible. You will be tried tomorrow," Loki informed her.

"Tried?! What's my crime?"

He raised his brows in surprise. "You came from Midgard without the use of the Bifrost and you fell into a highly guarded castle. If you wish, we can make a list of your crimes."

She stiffened. "This isn't my fault. You'll find that the stone must be a transportation device."

"You'll be able to make your excuses at the trial."

There was nothing she could do then. She couldn't very well escape a realm she knew nothing of. Then again, that was possibly the worst thing she could do. Despite it being unintentional, she did crash into their castle.

Hermione moved away, her teeth biting her lower lip in contemplation. So she truly was stuck there for the night. She looked out at the setting sun, dousing the sky in pink. It wouldn't be long, then. Maybe she would return before Harry and Hannah even realize that she was gone.

Yet, it was the idea of being alone that terrified her more than any of it. No one knew where she was. She realized that she never had to be without Harry and the Weasley's since she was eleven. The day Harry, Ron and her fought the troll and became friends, she was never far from them.

Except then. She was a realm away. She enclosed her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling very cold.

"I am sure the Allfather will take the circumstances into account."

She guffawed, "are you trying to comfort me?"

Loki gave her a genuine smile. "I'm well aware that your intrusion was not your fault. The fact is, you did make it through, so you must remain here. This is my chamber; it is the most secure in the castle and you are most welcome to stay the night here. I will be stationed outside of the door."

Fear cinched her gut. She didn't like the idea of being alone in a strange room, on a strange realm. He alone was the only thing familiar and she went to reach for him, only to stop herself. "Stay," she asked.

For a long moment, he didn't speak, only considered her. "Very well." He took the chair away from the desk and set it facing the door. He sat, his back straight, his hand idly fiddling with something that resembled a coin. It flashed in the low light as he deftly flipped it over his knuckles.

She revisited the bed, sinking herself underneath the covers. Lying her head on the soft pillow, she watched as he played with the coin. She found herself relaxing, her eyes closing. The last lucid though she had was that she never told him her name.

"My name is Hermione Granger," she introduced in barely a whisper.

"Hermione Granger," he tried the name on his tongue and although she couldn't see, she could feel his smile.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Hermione slowly woke, blinking into the strangeness of her surroundings. She remembered that she wasn't on Earth. Asgard. Gods. So far from home...

Her guard appeared next to her. "Good morning." It looked like he was going to say more, but he spied the scar on her neck, where Bellatrix's knife had dug in. He then noticed the words that had been engraved on her arm. It obviously disturbed him. "You were in a war." It was a statement.

"Yes." She sat up, keeping the covers around her chest.

"You should be proud of your scars, they show courage."

She knew that to be true; everyone in her life wore a scar and they were all brave. "Thank you."

"Your trial is in fifteen minutes," Loki informed her. "Clothes have been provided for you." He bowed and left, closing the door firmly behind him, allowing her privacy.

Hermione saw that a dress had been laid out at her feet. It was a deep royal blue, accented in silver flowers. It was so very beautiful and left her to wonder why they were treating her so invitingly.

A door next to the fireplace lead to a spacious bathroom. Like seemingly everything, it was made from marble (they must have had an excess of it, she thought).

Relief washed through her when she saw that Asgard had plumbing. She set about to her morning routine where she noted they had an abundant of soaps and shampoos. She filled the circular tub with hot water and bathed quickly with a soap that smelled of coconut (it reminded her of home).

She pulled on the dress and used the silver brush provided to run the knots out of her wet hair, pinning it away from her face. She took a quick glance in the mirror above the sink and thought that she looked presentable enough.

When she exited, Loki welcomed himself in. His lips twitched when he saw her. "Are you ready, Granger?"

She wasn't, but she nodded anyway. He motioned for her to follow him. She kept close behind him as they made their way down the cold corridors, the low lighting casting long shadows.

It reminded her of Hogwarts. Suddenly, she wished she was provided a sweater. She thought of a particular purple knit one in her closet. Mrs. Weasley had made it for her last Christmas.

Suddenly, Loki stopped at double doors where two guards stood motionless. Without a word, the one on the left opened the way.

She was in the throne room. It was long, rows of windows on either side, creating an almost blinding light. It would have been more beautiful if not marred by the possibility of being a prisoner there.

No one would know what happened to her. Harry would go by her house, she was sure, but he would find her missing. How long would he look until he gave up? Would the Ministry be able to help him?

The thoughts stung her eyes, but she steeled herself. She had gotten out of worse places than Asgard. She had done nothing wrong, she was innocent.

Loki held up his hand for her to stop in front of the podium, two large golden thrones upon it, one seating the woman that had come to her aid and a man with an eye-patch. Frigga and Odin.

There was a tightness in her chest. They were quite imposing, power radiating off of them. Frigga studied her, but she felt that her entirety was being stripped by Odin, her secrets laid bare.

Loki placed his fist over his heart and he bowed. Hermione bent her waist, as well.

"Stand," Odin's voice echoed.

They did as such and Loki stepped back, putting Hermione center stage. She suddenly felt very alone and vulnerable.

Odin's gaze could have cut through steel. "State your name and birthplace."

"Hermione Jean Granger. London, England, Midgard."

"How did you arrive here?"

"A stone with runes sent me here."

"How did you acquire it?"

"It was given to me to inspect."

"Did you read the inscription on the stone?"

"It was in ancient Norse which I do not speak." She wondered how it was that she could understand the gods then, if they were still using an antiquated language. Then again, they were gods, they probably knew every language on Midgard.

"Did you instruct this stone?"

"Only for it to reveal its secrets."

Odin's fingers tightened on the arm of his chair. That last word seemed to have bothered him more than her being in front of him. She wondered if she had signed her death warrant.

"My judgement is that you remain here until your possessions have been researched thoroughly. I will then allow you to leave."

"Thank you," she said, bowing slightly. "If I may -"

Loki grabbed her elbow, causing her to quiet. "Shall I continue to guard her room?" He let her go as he asked.

"I agree with my wife's assessment, you are the most apt to deal with this... Unique circumstance. You both are excused."

When Hermione didn't move, but Loki forced her, guiding her back through the corridors and into the bedroom. They didn't speak the entire time, not until the door to the room was closed.

She rounded on him. "Why did you interrupt me?!"

"You were not in a position to ask him of anything. You were on trial for committing quite a few crimes, or had that escaped your notice?"

"How did you know I was going to ask him anything?"

"You are obvious to read."

She in-took a sharp breath through her nose. "Then you know how I feel about you."

"Clear as crystal."

She turned her back to him, holding the post of the bed. In truth, she didn't dislike Loki. In fact, she found him interesting. She took a few more deep breaths before facing him again.

"What would you have me do now," she asked.

"You are not allowed to leave the vicinity, Granger. As such, neither am I." He picked up an old book from his desk. The leather was old and cracking. "If stories interest you, we have them in droves."

"As I told your father, I don't know the language."

Loki paused, as if internally debating with himself. "Then I will read to you."

She smiled. A Norse god reading her Norse myths. It thrilled her and she perched herself up on the edge of the bed. "Please, go on then."

He sat in his chair and crossed his ankle over his thigh, propping the book on his knee. His choice of the first story was of how Thor was fooled by an old woman (and she certainly knew the stories well enough to know that he was editorializing for his own ego). She rolled her eyes, but she loved listening to him. His voice was akin to silk. It moved smoothly over her, keeping her entranced in stories of battles and jokes and the myths that she knew so very well.

She leaned her head against the post, admiring the way that his hair fell over his shoulders, how gently he turned the pages. He then smiled, as if he knew she was watching him, and she closed her eyes and letting the stories play like movies behind her lids.

Hours went by and Hermione almost forgot where she was when a guard welcomed himself in. He carried a tray with two goblets, a pitcher and a large bowl of fruit and vegetables, setting it on the trunk before leaving.

Hermione studied the array of food the guard provided them: Apples, oranges, carrots, figs, and pears. She looked up to Loki in question and he shrugged, his hand open. She handed him an orange while she took a pear, holding it between her palms.

It was then that she realized that they hadn't been provided a knife. Loki looked at her sadly, putting his orange aside and going over, taking the pear from her. He bent, unsheathing a knife from his boot and began to cut into the fruit.

"I forgot that I'm a prisoner," she said, stunned.

"That is the way that my mother wanted it. She knew you were innocent."

"I must thank her." She poured them both a goblet of whatever was in the pitcher. She got the strong scent of alcohol.

She took a sip and wrinkled her nose. "Mead," she guessed. She preferred wine, but she was so thirsty that she didn't care.

"I can have you provided with a different drink."

She shook her head, "no." She took another sip, hoping for the drink to help her sleep that night.

Loki was impressively experienced with the knife. He had the pear skinned in a matter of moments. He handed it back to her. "Are you bored," he asked.

"No, but you must be."

"Not at all," he said so easily that she smiled.

She hugged her knees to her chest as he returned to his chair, opening a new book. He read until sunset when she could hear the hoarseness and she insisted that she go to bed.

Loki stood outside of the closed door while she dressed in her nightgown, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. When she was under the blankets she called him in, and he took his station in the chair facing toward the door.

"Does me being in here still comfort you," he asked her softly. If darkness had a voice, it would sound like him.

"Yes."

"I used to not like being alone either. I would dream of Ice Giants. My mother would often sing me to sleep."

Hermione found that cripplingly sad. Like any other Asgardian child, Loki was afraid of Ice Giants, not knowing he was one. No wonder he was bitter.

"Loki..."

"Hm," he answered.

"I don't care that you're an Ice Giant or Asgardian."

He didn't respond, but as she closed her eyes she heard him humming a foreign tune. It lulled her to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

The next morning, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Hermione was first to greet Loki.

He rose from his station and came to her as she propped herself against the headboard. There was a tenderness in his gaze as reached into the fold of his tunic, bringing out her wand, holding it out in offering.

Surprised, she beamed, taking it in her hands, the feel of it familiar and comforting. "This means I can go home?"

"Yes."

She sighed in relief. It was over. She was free. "Thank you. When can I leave?"

Loki didn't appear to share in her happiness. In fact, he was distant and cold. "I will inform Heimdall of your departure."

"Wait," she said, scrambling off the bed and positioning herself in front of him to stop his retreat and he stopped short. She was suddenly aware that she was in the knee-length nightgown, and she wrapped her arms around herself modestly . "I want to see the stone," she stated boldly.

"Excuse me?"

"The stone that you have was mine under loan. It belongs to me."

"It belongs to the makers, which is us."

She guffawed. "You think like a goblin."

"I assure you I have no idea what that means."

"Are the makers of that stone alive?" She realized that Asgardians were for all intents and purposes immortal, and that her question may as well have meant her loss.

"Undetermined."

"Until it is determined, it belongs to me. I am not going to earth without it."

Loki studied her and after a moment he curtly, he dipped his chin. "Very well. I shall see that it returns to you, but that means that you will be spending another night."

"Good," she answered. "That's time enough to examine your texts."

"Making yourself at home here, aren't you?"

"It's part of my research."

"I will have the texts sent here, as well. I suppose I must position myself at this post as your translator, too." He didn't seem to be bothered by that, in fact, he had that amused smirk in place again.

She firmly kept her lips in place to prevent her joy showing through.

* * *

The amount of tomes was astronomical. It took five guards to bring in armfuls, and she was told that there was much more. She desperately wanted to see where they kept the rest, only imagining the size and what it contained, but she knew that she was confined to that room and so she sat at the desk with Loki.

He reached into the top drawer and withdrew a plain black leather book. He set it in front of her, along with a quill. "You may have this."

She picked up the book, admiring the quality. "Thank you. Where's the inkwell?"

"The ink will never run out of those quills."

"How does that work? Is there a replenishing source?"

"You are a curious one. The ink is self-regenerating."

"Fascinating," she breathed.

Loki pulled the topmost book from the pile and began reading and she began making notes. The amount of knowledge the texts held was amazing. She was spellbound by every word he recited to her.

As he was about to recite another paragraph, she held up her hand, the quill between her fingers. She re-read the previous sentence she scratched on the parchment.

"This appears to point that the Bifrost is not the only way to travel between the realms."

"You can do so by magic, but before the Bifrost was built, we traveled by runes. Like the stone you found."

"Why not still use them?"

"The Bifrost is pure energy of the runes. It is much safer, more powerful, than writing our own stones."

"Can these stones only be used by those adept at magic? Maybe that's why it didn't harm the muggles."

Before he could answer, dinner arrived by way of a guard, bringing the delicious scent of freshly baked bread. Hermione's stomach growled and Loki insisted that they take a break.

She opened a pair of windows, and breathed in the crisp and electrifying air. It was like the first true day of autumn. Loki watched as she set their chairs on the balcony. He followed silently, bringing the tray as she sat and gaze out at the main square, at the citizens milling about, talking, laughing and shopping.

Loki leaned back in his seat, his black boots on the railing. He had his knife out again, slathering butter on a slice of bread. He handed it to her. As she took a bite, she watched as he drunk from his goblet, watching the mead fill to the brim again.

That simple magic made her ache for home. She thought of Harry and hoped that he hadn't alerted the Ministry yet. She didn't want to panic anyone.

She wondered how she would possibly tell him the truth of the stone. What would she do with it? Have it locked away? Destroyed? The latter was certainly a safer route.

It occurred to her then, while during all of their studying, Loki hadn't mentioned what he thought of it. It was his world, his language and his realm's magic. How could he not have a theory? He was a master of the arts.

"Do you have any thoughts about the stone," she asked.

"Only what we have learned. That it is from the times of old. More ancient than our civilization." He had seemed too careful with his words.

"That's all," she teased.

"We'll find its origins, its purpose, I promise."

She turned her gaze to the people once more. She felt Loki's eyes burning her back and she looked over her shoulder at him, resting her cheek on her clasped hands.

"I'm sorry I can't take you to the square," he apologized sincerely.

She shrugged. "I understand."

Thoughtfully, Loki thumbed the garnet jewel that lined the lip of his goblet. Hermione admired that simple action for a moment.

"I haven't thanked you," she said, "for everything you're doing for me."

He looked up at her in surprise, as if he had never been spoken to in such a way before. "You are welcome."

She rubbed her fingers together, ridding herself of the crumbs that clung there. He hadn't taken his gaze off of her.

"You know so much of our world. Tell me about yours."

She couldn't help the laugh that escaped. "Haven't you invaded it a couple of times?"

"I was a bit preoccupied those times."

She knew what he had done, she had read the news, but she also knew reformed Death Eaters. The chance of doing better - being better was an option for them and it shouldn't end at Loki.

"What would you like to know?"

"Start with yourself. Where did you learn magic?"

She grinned and began her tale of Hogwarts and he listened to every word. She could see the quirk in his brow when she talked of their magic, the library she spent so much of her time in, and of her adventures with her friends. When she finished, he set aside their plates.

"Come with me."

They left the room and were in the cold corridors. The blazing torches did little to warm her and she felt like she was eleven years old again and back in Hogwarts, not knowing that she should have brought a jumper. She wrapped her arms around herself as a shield. Without sparing her a glace he shrugged out of his black cloak and wrapped it over her shoulders.

It was much heavier than it appeared on him and so long it dragged on the ground. She pulled it up to her ankles, wrapping the excess materials over her arms.

"Thank you," she hushed, not wishing her voice to echo.

Two guards came around a corner, talking among themselves. Grabbing her elbow, Loki pulled her against his side. The guards passed without a glance to them. She waited until they were well out of ear-shot before shooting him a questioning look.

"I've cloaked us."

Hermione's eyes widened and she smiled to herself, remembering how she would go around the castle with Harry under his invisibility cloak. Those days were some of the best of her life and having that taste again lightened her spirits considerably.

Then, she began wondering something. "Am I allowed out?"

"As long as I accompany you within the vicinity of my chambers."

The cloaking made sense then.

Loki turned right into another hallway, bypassing the feasting hall that she had literally fallen into. They walked to the end of the corridor. With a flick of his wrist, the door opened, revealing the most beautiful sight she had ever seen.

She entered a circular room, the ceiling a glass dome, the night twinkling above them. The walls were golden shelves filled of ancient tomes. The floor was a maze cases with more tomes and some of boulders engraved with spiraling runes. She would happily let herself become lost there.

"Breathe," Loki reminded her.

She hadn't realized she stopped. "This is..." She stared up at him in wonderment. "May I?"

He gave a nod, and she went to the first case, taking down a black book with resplendent writing. She opened it up, the picture of a battle swimming to life in front of her, the ink moving and shifting.

"This is..." She faltered unable to find suitable words. She felt as though her heart would burst with joy.

Loki stretched out his hand and a book from the top traveled down. He took it, opening it up gently. "This may be of interest to you."

She took it and saw yet another moving painting. It was a depiction of the stone, the runes glittering as the actual stone had. Except it wasn't the runes on her stone (she would know as she had memorized them).

"What does it say?"

"It's an instruction to go to Álfheim. The realm of the Light Elves."

"What does the one I had say?"

Loki took the book back, holding it up and letting it fly back to its place. "I have not been told. When I receive your possessions tomorrow I'll make inquiries."

She chewed on her bottom lip, stopping herself from using Leglimency. His eyes fixated on her lip until she released it. "Okay," she gave in and she accepted Loki's outstretched arm.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

The sun poured over her, waking her. She stretched across the large bed, spotting Loki sitting at his station in his chair. She felt dread at the thought that she would be leaving Asgard. It was absurd, because in the beginning she feared that she would never be able to go back home.

She forced herself out of bed. "Good morning," she bade him.

He didn't look around. "Good morning, Granger."

Hermione made her way to the bathroom, going through her morning routine. When she exited, she was dressed in yet another Asgardian dress. She missed her jeans. She would miss Asgard more.

Loki sat at the desk, waiting for her. They didn't speak, but engrossed themselves in piles of new tomes. Occasionally, when Loki's voice sounded as though he swallowed rocks, he would take a sip from his goblet, and continue with a fresh tone. When he wasn't looking she had peeked inside, it's color dark and smelling of alcohol.

The hours flew by when they were working together. Her eyes were strained and her hand was sore (she had not done so much writing since Hogwarts). Just as she paused to massage her palm, lunch arrived in the form of a basket of fruit.

Loki took his turn to open the balcony windows, setting their chairs out. She brought over the basket, sitting next to him. She breathed in the coolness of the air and looked out on the happy people below. Then, she peered at him, to see that he was watching her.

For a long moment, they held their gazes. Very aware that it would be one of their last moments, she memorized the contours of his cheekbones, his jaw; the way his eyes pierced her and the way his black hair nearly brushed his shoulders. He was unabashed and so was she. She allowed the intimacy until it became too much and she broke away.

"Are you not hungry," Loki asked softly.

She shook her head and without another word, they returned to the desk. Hermione's hand throbbed and her handwriting (normally neat) was gradually becoming messier by the word. She ignored all of it. If she focused on the task, then she would not focus on what was going to happen next.

Just as they finished the tome, someone new joined them. Hermione jumped to her feet, the chair loudly scraping back.

"Queen Frigga." She bowed in respect, her heart heavy. She imagined that she was personally seeing that she left. "I wanted to thank you for your accommodations."

Loki had gotten to his feet next to her. Frigga took in the tomes sprawled over the desk and them. It was as though she was seeing more than what was there.

Frigga clasped her hands in front of her. "It is the least we can do for you, my dear. After all, you were subjected to magic from our realm." She opened up the nearest book, her slender fingers trailing over the runes. "You have done marvelous work; these tomes haven't been examined in centuries."

"Your son has been a great help."

Frigga's smile could light a thousand suns. She set the book aside, turning back to her. "I have been given word that you're leaving tonight?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Thor is returning from battle and tonight there will be a feast in his honor. For your assistance, I ask that you join us. Loki will escort you."

Hermione gaped for a moment, glancing at Loki's hard features. "I'm flattered," she managed, "I would love to."

"That settles it then. As these feasts go well into the night, I insist that you stay another night here."

"That is kind of you."

As Frigga turned to leave, Hermione remembered the reason that she was there in the first place.

"Oh," she spoke up, "your Majesty, if it's not too much of an inconvenience, I would like to be provided with the stone I came with."

It was less than a second, but Hermione saw that she had glanced to her son. "My apologies, Ms. Granger, but that stone must stay here. It is Asgardian. I'm sure you understand." Her words may have been warm, but they were final. She then left.

Hermione took a deep breath, the way she practiced when she was mad at Ron, but it hardly helped. She was enraged and she advanced on a calm Loki. "You said that I could have the stone!"

"I cannot dismiss the Queen's order."

"You knew," she seethed, "you knew I wouldn't be given the stone. You lied to me."

Loki only stared at her, his face impassive and it infuriated her further. It was as though he had no guilt about what he had done. She clenched her fists.

"Say something," she snapped.

"What would lessen your anger? To refute your claims? They are true."

She burned with rage. "Tell me why you lied!"

Loki gritted his teeth, a twitch forming in his jaw line. "I lied because I have enjoyed your presence. Making you believe that you could keep the stone was to ensure that you would not leave."

That was not the answer she had been expecting. "You lied to keep me here?"

"Yes. Once you leave, you cannot return. I wasn't ready to face your absence."

She dipped into the truthfulness of his words and it pained her. She wished he lied, for the thought of leaving him was crushing her. She didn't want to admit it to herself, but that was the most agonizing truth of it: She didn't want to leave him.

"I'll miss you," she whispered, blinking, keeping her tears at bay.

He stepped forward, capturing her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her sights up. She inhaled his dark scent. "I'll miss you, as well, Granger."

"Hermione."

"Hermione," he repeated, his breath fanning her burning face.

For a brief moment, she thought he would kiss her. Instead, he released her. She tried not to let her disappoint show. Perhaps it was for the best. They didn't need to become closer, not when she was to leave.

He swept his arm over the desk, the tomes vanishing, leaving only the book he had given her. It looked strangely alone there. "I must leave but I will return to take you to the feast." He bowed to her and left, the doors banging shut.

She was alone for the first time since her arrival. She went to the window, gazing below. The buildings with their high-steeped roofs of gold shimmered and blinded. It was beautiful. Almost as beautiful as the man who had left her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Hermione had tried to leave the confines of her room. She wanted to go to the library, perhaps even explore the castle, but as she stepped out she nearly collided with a gold-armored guard. Oddly, he didn't speak a word, but he didn't have to. Sadly, she closed the door.

With hours to pass by, Hermione busied herself with one of Loki's books; the binding was old and of a leather similar to dragon skin. It would have been easier if Loki had decided to stay to translate, but she supposed that he had other matters to attend to.

Leaning back against the pillows, she propped the book against her raised knees. She enjoyed the moving paintings. It was unlike those in the wizarding word where the whole image moved, where the people acted as they had in the moment, the ones in Asgard were more poetic, as though the ink was alive, swimming to form the paintings.

Turning the page, she paused on a depiction that took up the whole page. It showed an icy land covered in blue bodies. In the midst was Odin, one eye bleeding, covered in the remains of the war. In his large hands was a cerulean baby. The scene was horrifying, hopeful and despairing.

Hermione snapped the book closed. She knew what she had seen, she knew the myth. She knew Loki was a frost giant, but seeing it was different. She didn't suspect that Loki would have been pleased either. She placed the book back and laid back on the bed.

She stared up at the circular ceiling. It, too, was marble. Once more she sardonically thought of how much abundance they had. She sighed and turned to her side, ready to drift off for a little while when the door opened. Her heart leapt, thinking it would be Loki, but a servant girl of blonde hair and a modest visage entered.

"I'm sorry to disrupt you, Ms. Granger. I have your dinner clothes." She laid them at the end of the bed.

"Thank you." The girl stared at her with interest. She then blushed and bowed her head in shame.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Granger. We don't have many from Midgard here."

Hermione chuckled. "What is your name?"

"Astrid."

"That's a very pretty name."

"Thank you, you're very kind. I'll leave you now." She offered a small smile and left.

Hermione inspected the dress. The green was made of pure silk and the way it slid over her hands was reminiscent of Harry's cloak. With it was a gold leaf clip. She dressed, taking her time afterward with her hair, wishing that she had her Sleekeazy potion. She brushed her curls, pushing it back and securing it with the clip.

On time, there was a knock. With a thought, she smiled to herself and picked up her wand, magically opening the door. It felt good to use it again.

Loki blinked and a slow smile crept over his lips as he took in her attire. She took in his, as well. His was wearing gold chest and arm plates and a green cape. He looked like a warrior and he was breathtakingly handsome.

He bowed and offered his arm which she accepted. Leaning down, his lips grazed her ear. "You look divine."

Shivers traveled up her back and as if he knew, he smirked.

The dining hall looked more like a small feast at Hogwarts. The table was long, the middle laden with delicious foods, the center, what looked to be a boar. The Allfather and Frigga sat at the head. With his last eye, Odin watched her every move and she tried not to notice.

A man with scraggly blond hair and a beard was regaling what she believed to be the Warriors Three with tales of his latest adventure. They were laughing, goblets being banged down upon the table with a shake.

Loki offered her a chair across from them and he took his place next to her. This ended the tale, and the men gawked at them with clear disbelief.

"You haven't introduced me to your companion, Loki."

"This is Hermione Granger, from Midgard."

"It's nice to meet you..." Thor then regarded his father. "I wasn't aware of a visitor."

"She came unexpectedly with a rune stone in her possession. It's been determined that it was not of her own will." Odin's words were factual and cutting, and Hermione got the impression that he didn't like mortals on Asgard.

"And you left her to Loki?!" Thor was aghast.

"That was my decision," Frigga was quick to take blame away from her husband.

He obviously didn't see it as a wise arrangement, but he didn't dare speak adversely in front of his mother. Instead, he sat back, evaluating the woman in front of him, as if searching for harm. She looked back, unashamed, refusing to be put on the spot. She wouldn't have him think that his brother was anything but kind to her.

Loki began cutting pieces from the boar and quail, setting them on her plate. That action caused blatant stares. Hermione wondered what they thought of them - of what they thought of Loki. Apparently, his attention toward her was not common.

"Congratulations on your latest victory," she complimented Thor, not knowing how to approach the subject of battle with Asgardians. They viewed it quite differently than mortals, she knew.

A large man taking a large piece of boar bellowed happily. "This one is one for the ages!"

Modestly, Thor smiled, but he then directed the conversation back to her. "What do you do on Midgard?"

"I own a bookstore in London. My friend asked for my help with studying an ancient artifact when it dropped me here."

"Why was I not aware of this," he asked his father.

Loki snarled. "Please, brother, delight us of your knowledge of ancient artifacts and magic. I am sure it is bountiful."

"Do not insult me, Loki."

"Enough!" Odin's voice resounded.

The way the Warriors Three continued to eat made it clear that the outburst wasn't an irregular occurrence. It didn't make her feel any less troubled.

"I imagine that Loki has more pressing duties," said Thor meaningfully. "I will make arrangements to guard Granger from my room."

"That is not necessary," said Loki.

"She should decide."

Hermione licked her dry lips, all eyes on her. Heart in throat, she looked to Loki, unsure of how he felt. "If you want your bed - "

"The chair will suffice another night."

Her shoulder's slumped in relief. She wasn't nearly ready to be apart from him, especially since they had so little time left.

Thor didn't like that answer. "If you change your mind -"

Loki hissed. "If you are searching for a warm bed, I suggest you seek out Jane. Or has she moved on in your absence?"

The thunder that came shook Hermione's ribs, but Odin's roar was far worse as it jolted her entire being. He stood then, his palms slapping the table, nearly knocking over Hermione's goblet.

"This is unacceptable behavior from two princes! Spend the meal in quiet if you cannot speak cordial." He sat down, and he continued with his meal.

Loki pressed his palms flat against his thighs. He looked over at her, almost apologetic, but Hermione mouthed, "it's okay."

Under the cover of the table, he took her hand, as if he had done it a million times. An electrical shock shot through her. If he felt it, he made no sign. She squeezed and he threaded their fingers.

It didn't go unseen by Thor. His eyes, once a brilliant blue turned stormy, and they flashed dangerously as more thunder clapped in the distance.

"Thor," Odin chastised.

"You must watch that temper, brother," Loki sneered.

"I must be averse to people being taken advantage of."

In a second, Loki had released her hand, his own on the knife beside his plate. Hermione caught his wrist and noted that it was freezing cold. Perhaps it was the low light of the hall, but it appeared to be tinged cerulean.

Fandral paused his goblet on the way to his mouth. He stared in awe and Hermione realized that she may have done something she shouldn't have. Abruptly, she jerked back and Loki's fingers slowly uncurled from the handle.

Hogun gave her a reprieve and began talking of the latest battle again. Soon they were immersed in their celebration and she listened to tales her world had forgotten or did not yet know. Most were ones that Loki had already told her. Hermione noted how they ignored him. She also noted how he didn't bother to interject with any comments of his own. She knew that he used to fight alongside them, but since New Mexico he was an outsider. She got the feeling he always had been, the way that she was with Harry and Ron.

Loki spotted her abandoned silverware and stood, aiding her to her feet. "If you excuse us, she has an early morning." He gave her his arm, but before they exited, she spared a glance over her shoulder.

Every single person that remained at that table (Frigga, Odin, Thor and a man she knew to be Fandral) was watching their departure in awe. She knew of Loki's nature, but she didn't anticipate the astonishment from his gentleness toward her.

She couldn't help but think of how little time they had left. She didn't want to go to bed, but stay awake to listen to his stories. To simply be in his company. She wished for another day.

Loki was quiet, his eyes glazed, unfocused, lost in his own thoughts. Just when she was going to ask what he was thinking of, he stopped in the middle of the empty hallway, and shoved her against a wall, her waist restrained, his mouth on hers. Her heart threatened to break its cage, the mere action consuming her. She moved her lips over his, inhaling him, tasting his tongue and the meade he drunk. He drew himself closer, flush against her body, drawing their hips together so she could feel his arousal.

She brought her hands up to his neck, feeling a raised scar that lined his collarbone that he undoubtedly won in a battle. He groaned into her, his hold tightening.

Without warning, the wall behind her disappeared, and she was falling, landing on the softness of his bed. He held himself over her, his armor disappearing in a black mist, but he remained dressed in his usual black attire, not bothering to undress further.

He kissed her neck, feeling his way up her leg, lifting the hem of the dress to her waist. Her back arched as his hand brushed her core once and then she heard the sound of a zipper and he was shoving her pants to the side. She felt the tip of him at her entrance and she bit her lip in anticipation.

"When I take you, you will be mine and only mine," he warned in her ear, his breath hot and his voice coarse.

Somewhere in her muddled mind, she understood the weight of it, that her answer had to be resolute. Except, there wasn't doubt. Loki was exactly what she wanted.

"I'm yours."

He guided himself into her slickness, slowly pushing all of himself into her, stretching her. The feel of him was exquisite and she arched her back at the sensation. When he was fully settled, he clutched her hips, securing her to the mattress; he locked eyes with her and he pulled back, ramming into her, fast and hard. She cried out as he pounded her roughly, bruising her inside and out. It was a dull pain, something the pleasure drowned out.

With her legs wrapped around him, she gripped his sides, her nails digging in through the cloth of his tunic. Loki reached back, snatching her wrists and pinning them together over her head in his right as his left returned to push her hip back down, stilling her small movements. It caused her legs to fall away, leaving her completely at his mercy.

Loki had complete control, and right then, she realized she loved it. Every choice was taken from her and it was both terrifying and thrilling. There were no thoughts or even one contemplation, just them together. All she could do was fall into bliss.

Loki's hair fell like a curtain beside his face, brushing her cheek as he briefly bit her shoulder, marking her as his. After, he pressed his cheek beside hers, grunting every thrust in her ear.

He became rougher in his taking of her, harder. It was a delicious anguish, but she couldn't help the small whimpers that escaped.

"Shhh..." he soothed. He kept himself fully inside as he ground into her.

His hand came down from her wrists to her to cradle her head, his fingers lost in her messy hair, pressing his face into it. He laid fully on top of her, not slowing his pace. She wrapped her arms over his neck, nestling into his clammy neck. She swore she saw stars, nearly shouting as she came undone, trembling in his arms. He gave one last push, holding himself deep inside, groaning his release. She felt every twitch and every burst.

They lied motionless as they gathered their breaths. Fearfully, he lifted and inspected her face, waiting for her reaction.

In response to his silent question, she trailed the tips of her fingers over his cheeks, beads of sweat clinging to form and dripping down to her palm. In reassurance he once more brought his lips down to hers in the softest of brushes.

He moved off of her, to lie sideways in the bed, enveloping her under his arm. She lied on his chest, listening to his slowing heart.

She was wet and sticky, and she wanted to get out of her dress, but she didn't trust her legs to carry her to the bathroom. So she stayed there and thought about the morning, about having to say goodbye, about living a life without him. She didn't speak her concerns aloud but put them to the side. It was still night and she still had time with him.

Her lips found the base of his throat as his fingers tangled themselves in her tresses, his other on her arm, tracing the raised scar that read 'mudblood.' They laid there in silence and she fell into a peaceful sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

A part of her expected Loki to have left in the night. Yet, when she opened her eyes, he was there, not asleep, but having a staring contest with the ceiling.

"I can't come back," she whispered, "but you can come with me."

"They do not welcome me on Midgard."

"What will we do?"

He moved, her head slipping on the pillow as he covered her body with his. His hand cupped her cheek, his eyes meeting hers. "Know this, I will find my way to you. You promised yourself to me and I will hold you to that."

There was one resounding knock. Loki rose out of bed to answer. Hermione could see through the crack that it was Thor. Due to his size he was very hard to miss.

"They are waiting for her."

Loki gripped the door frame, his knuckles white. "Fine."

"May I speak to you in private?"

"If you must."

The door closed and Hermione slid out of bed. She straightened her dress and tip toed to the door, pushing her ear against it.

"I don't think it wise to have a discussion here, Thor."

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from giggling. Loki knew that she was listening, as she had on her first night.

"I am sure she is preparing for her leave. We must discuss her, Loki."

"There is nothing to discuss."

"Brother, it is not often that you display affection toward anyone."

"Congratulations on your insights, brother, but I assure you, I'm fully capable of surrendering her."

"You don't have to. I am working on father to allow an open gateway for a chosen few to enter Asgard."

"Don't think I don't hear the selfishness behind your words. This is not out of concern for me, but for yourself."

"It benefits both of us, Loki. Jane and Granger could stay!"

Silence.

"Loki, you would never lower yourself to the title of a guard or translator for anyone. She has broken you like a tamer to a wild horse."

"You're wrong. I had my orders and I followed them."

"Your orders were to guard her. You had no such orders to read to her. You spent last night in bed with her."

"Are you spying on me?"

"The guards talk among themselves, Loki, I'd be a fool if I didn't listen."

"Tell those waiting that I'll return the visitor shortly. And if they continue talking about me or Granger I will cut out their tongues."

"That won't be necessary. I'll be dismissing the guards and escorting Granger myself. She's no longer a prisoner and shouldn't be treated like one."

"Very well," Loki said.

"You love her, Loki. I know you do."

There was a crackle and she was sure it had come from Loki. She backed away from the door, her heart thundering almost painfully. Love. Thor thought Loki loved her. The idea made her giddy, but it was dampened by the knowledge that she would be leaving. He may have promised they'd see each other again, but she had to prepare herself for the possibility that they wouldn't.

When he entered, he spotted her, shaking his head. "Your penchant for eavesdropping is well out of hand."

"Then maybe you should stop having loud conversations outside the door."

He ignored her. "You should busy yourself dressing. Thor is waiting to escort you."

"You're not going to?"

He smiled at that. "I will until we reach the Bifrost. I'm not forbidden to be on it."

"Why is that?"

His face hardened. "To prevent further wars, I attempted to eradicate Jotunheim. I ensured the offenseless left, but it was a crime to interfere. Thor stopped it by destroying the Bifrost. It's been rebuilt since then and I have been prohibited."

Hermione reeled for a moment, but she thought she shouldn't have been surprised. After all, she knew of the stories, she knew Loki. She knew he was the other side of the coin.

She saw the pain on his features, between his brows and the crease of his mouth. She touched the back of his hand, urging him to listen to her. "I understand. You're a soldier, Loki."

He gazed at her in wonder before he closed the distance between them, clutching the back of her neck and kissing her hard. Her body against his, she found purchase on his taut shoulders, the ends of his hair brushing her knuckles. The feel of him was intoxicating and she tried to memorize it, the way his lips moved over hers, the way his thumb caressed her cheek, the fragrance of dark woods. She tried to memorize everything about that moment.

Holding her face, he trailed kisses over her cheeks, her lids, pressing one to her forehead. "I'll find you. Wherever you are."

The tears stung. "I should get ready."

Loki relinquished his hold on her, but as Hermione unzipped and stepped out of her wrinkled dress, he snatched her wrist. His eyes were glazed over with lust. "On the bed," he demanded.

She obeyed and he climbed on top of her to claim her a last time.

* * *

Hermione wore the white dress Loki provided for her. Luckily it had pockets to place her wand. He assured her he sent along the rest of her possessions with a servant; they had already been delivered and was waiting for her at home.

Loki waited, as she gave one last look to the bed chamber she was leaving. She never thought that she would be sad to leave. That room, it was a bubble she had with Loki. The two of them and the bond they built had been done so with its walls. It was silly, but knowing that she was unlikely to ever see it again made her heartsick.

Together, arm in arm, they walked through the castle. She knew very well that he could apparate them to the meeting point, but they both were stretching their time.

The corridors, as always, were quiet, except for their echoing footsteps. Hermione's sneakers were a bit louder, despite that Loki wore boots. They made their way through a large entryway flanked with guards who dipped their heads in respect.

The entryway held only a servant, sweeping the floor. She gave them a sidelong look, but did not speak. Hermione's cheeks heated, remembering Thor mentioning that the guards talked. The servants must have, too. Of course they did.

The sky was a bright blue, the sun well over the horizon. They went through the Main Square, the air heavy with the scent of spices and flowers. Although they didn't slow, she took the opportunity to look at the wares, at the people around. It was all so very beautiful, so much more than it was from the balcony.

"Thank you," she said, appreciating that he purposefully chose that route for her.

"You're welcome."

Outside of the square, down the steps in front of the road to the Bifrost, Thor was waiting. He sat astride on a white horse, setting his brother a disapproving glare. "You're late," he reprimanded.

"There were unforeseen circumstances," Loki excused.

He said no more, but it seemed he knew what Loki meant for he turned away, giving them their privacy. A last moment, she realized.

Hermione felt her heart breaking into pieces. She breathed deeply and evenly, determined not to fall apart in front of all of Asgard and most especially not in front of Loki. She didn't want her tears to be their last memory together.

In one last familiar touch, he gently tucked a strand of curls behind her ear, caressing her cheek. He then lifted her hand, pressing a kiss to her fingers.

"It was a pleasure, Granger."

She squeezed his hand, unable to find words. She went over to Thor, who helped her up, her hand lost in his large one. She settled herself behind him, holding his iron-clad sides. The position that it found them in made Loki audibly scowl, but he backed away.

Thor took them away, but not once did she break eye contact with the man she was leaving behind.

They traveled quickly over the bridge. It shimmered in rainbows like a pyramid glass to the light. When Loki was out of sight, she watched the flickers of bright colors that reflected in Thor's armor. She focused on that and not on the pieces that she knew she would have to pick up later.

Thor halted in front of a bronze sphere-shaped building. At the top was a slender triangle, pointing up to the brightening blue sky. He dropped down, and grabbed her waist, lowering her to the ground. She stayed beside him as they walked inside.

A tall dark-skinned man stood at the center, his shoulders squared importantly. He was the gate-keeper, Heimdall. He gripped a rather impressive sword placed in a slot. Hermione guessed that it must have been the key to working the building they were in. Perhaps it directed the Bifrost.

"So you are the woman that bypassed my portal." Heimdall said deeply, almost in monotone. Almost, there was an edge of admiration.

"It was beyond my control," she admitted modestly.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"The sword is the key."

Although she was aware of Heimdall's abilities, she couldn't help but be in awe. She swore that she saw his mouth twitch.

"You must be eager to return home." She could not distinguish if there was more behind his words. She didn't have time to analyze her suspicions; for he twisted the sword, and the sphere around them shifted and moved.

It reminded Hermione of her time in the atrium although the building she was in was more extraordinary. A window came into view, showing them a point in the vast universe, black with streaks of blue and purple across a myriad of stars. Although she couldn't see it, she knew they were facing Earth.

Thor bowed to her, kissing her hand, his beard rough on her skin. "Granger," he bade.

"Thank your parents for me, will you?"

Thor clapped her on her shoulder, almost sending her to the floor. "We should be thanking you! You have done more for these realms than you realize."

"I'm not certain what you mean." What had she possibly done for them? She was locked away in a room most of the time.

In response, Thor gestured toward the opening portal that resembled a black hole. She walked up to it, and chose not to look back.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

A multitude of colors swirled around her. It was almost as bad as Floo'ing, her feet not touching any surface, her surroundings flying by her. At least she could breathe, unlike Floo'ing, there wasn't the soot and roughness.

Hermione shut her eyes and only when she finally felt solid ground did she open them. The colors had faded and she saw that she was in the back garden of her home. The ground around her was scorched, thick black smoke flowing up from the circle of embedded runes.

Everything else, was normal. The rose bushes that lined her house, the shed with the loose door, the fallen orange leaves. Everything was the same, except for her.

She looked up the sky, knowing Heimdall had to have been watching and for a brief second she considered giving him a message for Loki, but she bit her lip and decided against it. It was done. It was over. While Loki promised to find her, she didn't quite believe it. After all, what would he want with a Midgardian? A girl who by pure happenstance landed in a place she didn't belong? No, neither one of them belonged in each other's world.

Her heart broke, tears fell.

She lowered herself to the grass, wishing inanely to stay within the runes a little while longer. That was when she felt it, something in her right pocket. Whatever it was weighed on her thigh. She brought it out, the once-innocent stone sitting in her palm. Even in the low light, the runes still shimmered.

The night before she left, when for the first time Loki wasn't guarding her, he must have been retrieving it for her. He had to have placed it in her pocket when she wasn't looking, thus keeping his promise from the beginning.

Although... Why wasn't she leaving? She was touching the stone with her bare hand and yet she wasn't being transported to Asgard. She supposed that it was a good thing. Maybe it was only for one use.

She dropped it safely back in her pocket.

"Hermione!"

Her heart jumped as Harry came barreling out of the house, falling in front of her. Dark circles lined his eyes, his hair messier than usual, he looked positively mad. He grabbed onto her shoulders, he inspected her for injuries, then at the ground and what they were surrounded by. He was frantically searching for words, but none seem to come.

"I'm okay, Harry," she assured him, but her voice broke.

"What happened?! We've been searching for you!"

"It's a long story."

"Hermione," he spoke lowly, "you've been gone for days. You need to tell me what happened. Now." He was nearly in his Auror-mode, but as she had practically hovered over him like a mother hen during their school days, he didn't scare her.

"I didn't use the gloves," she admitted, and began laughing at the absurdity of it. She ended up in Asgard, fell in love with a Frost Giant, all because she didn't use protection. She couldn't stop laughing.

He started to stand, "I'll get a Healer -"

"Harry," she reached for his arm, pulling him back down. "I promise you, I'm fine. Everything is fine." The latter was a lie, but she couldn't tell him, not just yet. "I'll tell you everything, but not now. What I want, is dinner and tea."

Poor Harry stared at her oddly, but he didn't argue, only helped her to her feet. Together, they went into the house. He set about making the tea and she crossed into the living room where she collapsed on the couch. The remote wasn't on the side table where she remembered it being, but was on the cushion next to her.

She turned on the television, but through the archway to the kitchen, she watched him pulling open the exact cabinets and drawers, knowing exactly where every utensil was. Apparently, in her absence he'd become familiar with her house; he must have been staying there, waiting for her. She hated knowing what she put him through.

Out of his pocket he withdrew his mobile, speed-dialing a number. "Ron," he said, "Hermione's back. She's fine, I'm with her. No, you don't need to come over. She hasn't said anything. No, don't come by, I think she needs to be alone. She's _fine_ , Ron. Tell your family, okay? Thanks. Bye." He flipped the phone closed.

"I'm sorry for worrying everyone," she told him.

"Not your fault."

She turned to the television where there was a commercial selling an elderly recliner. Harry handed her a cup of hot Irish Breakfast tea (her favorite), and he settled in next to her. They watched in comfortable silence, the hours passing them by.

They ordered in sandwiches from the nearest restaurant, eating at the coffee table. Afterward, Hermione waved her wand, the empty plates and napkins disappearing. They returned to the television. She allowed herself to be taken away, to forget just for a little while that she had ever left home, but she grew sleepy, her head lulling on her friend's shoulder, inhaling the comforting scent of his soap. Harry's head had fallen back, his eyes closed, the flickering light playing over their features.

Hermione thought she only nodded off for a moment, but when she woke the series they'd been watching had turned into a loud man with a bad toupee offering an "amazing deal" for carpet cleaner. She switched off the t.v.

Gently, she nudged Harry onto his back, took off his black and gray trainers, and laid a blanket over him. She swept the ends of his hair to the side and kissed his forehead. She left to her bedroom, turning on the bedside lamp, shadows appearing and elongating.

It hit her then: She was alone. Hot tears stung.

There, folded neatly at the end of her bead were her tartan pajamas and on top was the leather book. Dressing in the them, she got under the covers and opened the book. She smelled the pages, the ink, reliving sitting at that desk, with Loki beside her, reciting every line. The tears rolled over her temples into her hair. She pushed those thoughts aside and began reading the notes she wrote. It did not last long, though, for sleep captured her once more, the book lying open on her stomach.

She dreamt of him.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

A shift in the bed woke her, but it was the scent of vanilla coffee that made her open her eyes. In the haziness of the light, she could have sworn that perhaps she had merely dreamt of Asgard, of Loki. If it were not the book lying on her abdomen, she could have fooled herself into believing it a little longer.

Beside the bed, Harry held two mugs, offering one to her. She put the book aside, and sat up, leaning against the headboard. She took the mug in her hands, the heat warming her.

"Are you ready to talk," he asked, climbing in next to her.

Hermione didn't. She never wanted to talk about it, but keep it as a memory until it paled into a far-away dream and then perhaps she could fool herself into thinking that she hadn't fallen desperately in love with a god. Her chest tightened and she forced to take a deep and even breath.

Harry was her best friend, and after everything they had been through, she couldn't keep it from him. She started from the beginning, but she left out Loki.

He was in stunned stillness for the majority, coughing at the end of her tale of the rainbow bridge. "So..." He finally said. "You went to Asgard and met with gods..."

"When you say it like that, it sounds crazy. You do believe me, don't you?"

Harry looked offended. "Of course I do. I don't know what we do with the information. We don't even have the stone."

"About that..." She reached over to where her jeans were discarded and took out the stone. She straightened, showing it to him. "Don't touch it," she cautioned, not knowing what would happen.

"You stole it?" He looked impressed.

It was her turn to look offended. "Of course not!"

"Then how did you get it out of Asgard?"

"Someone took it for me."

Harry thumbed the handle of his mug. "I think I've known you for long enough to know when you're hiding something."

She blushed and sighed. "I... Met someone."

Being the man that he was, he too, blushed. "Oh." He coughed again awkwardly, changing the subject, much to her relief. "Um, you're not wearing gloves, why is it not sending you to Asgard?"

She shrugged, turning the stone over and placing it in her breast pocket. "Maybe it only happens once? I don't trust this to the Ministry, Harry. They'll want to test the stone and if Asgard gets wind of it they'll be down here. I don't want to think of what will happen when these worlds collide violently..."

"Or what will happen to you," he spoke of his own concerns.

She knew that if Asgard found out she had the stone, the second trial wouldn't go as well as the first. She wouldn't end up in a nicely decorated cell with a prince for a guard, she would end up in its dungeon. Did it have a dungeon?

Without warning, the house shook, a vase on top of her dress crashed to the floor, breaking into pieces. The coffee sloped up the sides and spilled over them. Hermione held onto the headboard and Harry the side table until it subsided.

She looked to him in fear. "Stay here," she warned him.

Rolling off the bed, she grabbed her wand and swept it over herself, removing the coffee and leaving her dry. She then ran barefoot to the kitchen, looking out of her window.

Through her flowered curtains she saw that in the middle of the old imprint was Thor. He stood there, garbed in silver armor, his cape blood red, his huge hammer at his side.

Harry stopped at her side. "Is that...!"

"I told you to stay in the bedroom!" She pushed past him, going out in the garden. She had her hand on her wand, but knew that it would do her no good then.

She bowed, "it's nice to see you again, Thor."

"I'm not here for pleasure, Granger."

"I thought as much."

"Where is the stone?"

It suddenly felt very heavy in her pocket. "What stone," she lied.

Thor's chapped mouth widened into a smile. "Unfortunately, you are not as skilled of a liar as my brother."

"I don't have the stone," she insisted, but even to her own ears, it felt weak.

"If you have a problem, you best contact the Head Auror," Harry said, behind her. If only Thor knew that when he spoke of the Head Auror he was talking about himself.

The thunder god inspected him curiously. He turned back to Hermione, his brows furrowed. "I don't mean you harm, Granger. We can speak cordially."

Hermione stepped to the side. "Then come in."

They made themselves comfortable around her kitchen table. Large and oddly dressed, Thor looked quite out of place in the brightness of her house, even more than when Hagrid visited. Unbeknownst to him, when he lowered his hammer to the linoleum, he cracked it.

Despite the earliness of the morning, she served Firewhiskey; the situation called for it. She sat beside Harry and across from Thor, who took a long drink from the bottle.

"This is good."

"It's a Wizard drink," she informed him. "By the way, this is Harry Potter, he's a friend.

"It is rather early for friends to be together..."

Hermione burned and stared at Loki's brother ruthlessly. She supposed his unmannerly disposition had to do more with him being a warrior than a future king.

"You had a serious matter to discuss with me," she reminded him.

He nodded, setting his bottle down. "I was sent here to obtain the stone and return it to its rightful place in Asgard."

"I'm afraid that isn't possible, because as I told you, I don't have it."

"I know that Loki stole the stone and gave it to you."

"I'm afraid you're mistaken."

Thor leaned forward. "Granger, Loki has been arrested by orders of the King."

"What?!" She nearly knocked over her drink.

"It's been discovered that he stole the artifact. It is in both of your interests to give it back."

Gaping, she flustered. "What - what proof do you have that he s-stole anything?"

"This is not Midgard we are speaking of, it is Asgard. We don't have lawyers, we have a King and Queen. My father wasn't convinced of Loki's innocence and if you know him at all you know why that is."

Hermione contemplated for a moment. "If the stone was returned, would it release him?"

"I cannot say. My father has tired of his antics. This may well be the last straw."

" _If_ I had the stone, I won't be returning it until I am assured of Loki's release."

Thor's thick brows raised in indignation. "You are demanding too much. Give the stone back and I will talk to my father."

A fire burned inside of her. It wasn't that she didn't trust Thor, but she couldn't very well give up her only bargaining chip, especially if Loki's life depended on it. "Leave my house, Thor Odinson."

She almost thought he would refuse, but he rose. "I spoke to you as a warrior for Asgard. I will now speak to you as Loki's brother. Do what is right and return the stone." His blue eyes darted to Harry. "And I plead that you do not play with his damaged heart."

Hermione raised her chin. The implication was clear and it blazed her cheeks. "My relationships are none of your business, but Harry is just a friend."

"She's like my sister," Harry added. "So if you come down here again without alerting the Ministry demanding something she tells you she does not have, you will answer to me and the Minister."

"Don't threaten me," he advised darkly. The kitchen was thrown into shadow and Hermione saw the once white cotton clouds turn a sultry gray.

Harry jumped up, his hand on his wand. "Don't threaten her!"

"Enough!" Hermione got to her feet, her palms flat on her table. "I'll do what I need to, to release Loki," she assured Thor.

His boulder-like shoulders dropped, and the shadow let up. "I ask that you don't put yourself in harms way, Loki would only blame me. Now, I will leave you." He picked up his hammer, spotting the damage it left. "And I'm sorry for your floor."

Hermione opened the door for him, and he returned to the runes. Hermione and Harry watched the spectacular scene of him being taken up to the rainbow bridge in a bright, blinding light.

Once again, her garden was covered in a thick black smoke. She heaved a sigh, giving up the idea of a good lawn. She supposed it was a consolation that her roses remained intact.

Harry was peering down at her in the way he did when he was deducing something important. "This someone that you met... It was Loki, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

He seemed a little unnerved by that. "What will you do?"

She touched the stone. "I'm going to get Loki out of prison."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

While Harry kindly cooked breakfast, Hermione showered and dressed, pulling her hair back into a high ponytail. She returned to the smell of bacon and eggs. As they ate, though, she could only think of the stone, of everything that she would try. When she was done, she flew the dishes to the sink to wash themselves and her and Harry went to the living room.

She positioned the stone on the coffee table and settled herself on the floor. She repeated the events of the night it first took her, using the same spells to handling it with her bare hands.

Nothing happened. It remained there, mocking her. She took heaps of books from the bookcases that flanked her fireplace and flipped through each one, trying spell after spell. When every one failed, she groaned and leaned her head back on the couch behind her, next to Harry's legs.

"What do you think will happen if I touch it?" He took a sip of his Firewhiskey.

"I don't think you should travel another realm while you've been drinking."

"It's not like I'll be driving. You know, I have a friend in the Department of Mysteries. I can Owl them, maybe they'll know what to do."

She shook her head. "I can't risk anyone else going to Asgard. It has to be me."

Perhaps her suspicions had been right and the stones were only a one time use. Why had Loki been so vague with her? If he was intending they saw each other again, that was surely the reason he gave her the stone. However, if that was true, why not tell her how it worked? Was something wrong with the stone?

Hermione pressed her face into her hands, rubbing her tired head, wishing that she had a Firewhiskey like Harry instead of the tea.

 _Whoosh_

Dropping her hands, she saw her fireplace lit up green, and a speckled red-head wizard walked through. He spotted Hermione and sighed heavily in relief. "There you are!"

"Harry told you yesterday that I came back," she pointed out, confused by his reaction.

"But I had to see for myself. Hey, anymore Firewhiskey?"

"In the fridge," she answered, turning her attention back to the stone.

"So where were you," he asked, his voice muffled by the inside of the fridge.

"Asgard."

"Where in blazen's is that?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's the realm of the Aesir."

"The what?!"

"Oh, honestly, Ronald! It's a realm of gods."

Ron appeared in the doorway, a bottle in hand. "You went to a realm of gods?"

Harry chuckled at his expression. "Want to tell him about Loki," he joked.

She slapped her thighs, standing up. It was obvious that she wasn't going to get any work done. "Look, I went to Asgard, I was pardoned and now I'm back here needing to get back there, if only I can get this stone to work!"

"I didn't catch any of that." He slumped next to Harry, taking a drink.

She made a sound between a growl and a hiss and Harry proceeded to tell Hermione's story. She chose not to listen, letting it become background noise as she concentrated on the stone. She prodded it with her wand, she rubbed the runes, but nothing.

"You have a boyfriend?"

Hermione jerked out of her reflections. "What?"

Ron's ears were a deep red. "Harry said you have a boyfriend in Asgard."

She rolled her eyes. "I don't know what we are, but the longer I work on this the longer he's without any help."

Harry jutted his friend in the ribs and shook his head in way of telling him to keep his thoughts to himself. Ron did just that.

Hermione shook her head, took Harry's drink and took a gulp, letting the alcohol coat her drying throat. She fell onto the couch between them, rubbing her tired eyes with the tips of her fingers. "I don't know how to get him out of this."

"You're Hermione," Harry told her, taking back his bottle. "You'll find a way."

Hermione rested her head back on the cushion, closing her eyes. She remembered first seeing Loki, coming to her rescue while she laid on the castle floor. He read to her, stayed by her through her nightmares. He had been her friend. He'd been much more than that. Now, he needed her help and she couldn't do anything about it.

She thought back to that first night, hearing him outside of the door talking to his mother. She was so confused then, not even realizing how her life was about to change.

 _"It was a spell out of love,"_ Frigga had said.

Hermione's head snapped up, and she snatched up the rune, fingering the symbol under the pad of her thumb. "A spell out of love," she whispered.

"What," Ron asked, bewildered.

That was right, the runes had rubbed off on her skin. Was it crazy to think that maybe that stone wasn't only a transportation device, it was a type of tattoo? It inked her; seeping into her system.

She spun to face her friends. "I think I know how to get back there!"

Ron scrunched up his face. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"I have to try!"

"How long until I alert the Ministry," Harry asked.

She pointed a finger near his face in warning. "You listen to me, Harry, I don't care how long I'm gone, you do not tell the Ministry."

He swallowed nervously. "You'll be arrested on sight."

"Yes, but I'll have the stone to bargain with."

"I can't let you do this, Hermione. Mrs. Weasley will kill me!" He went to grab the stone, but she stood, grabbing it up and securely placing it in her jean pocket.

Harry gaped at her, but she raised her hands innocently in front of her. "I'm sorry, but I have to do this."

"At least let us go with you!"

"No! After everything you've been through, you both deserve a quiet life. Mine was over the moment I touched the stone. I broke their laws and now I have to pay for that. I'm okay with this, but I won't be if anything happens to either of you. Please, promise you won't try to follow."

"How can you ask that of us," Ron seethed.

"Because the world needs Harry, and your family needs you. No one needs me, I won't be missed."

"That's not true," Harry said, "we need you."

"You'll be fine," she said, her voice cracking. "Please, don't make this harder. This is something I have to do alone."

Ron watched on angrily, but as he was about to speak, Harry held up his hand. "If this is what you have to do... Then, I promise."

"Harry," his friend snapped.

Hermione teared. "Thank you."

He was at a loss for words, so she threw herself at him, hugging him tightly. So many times that she embraced him, in worry for his safety, in relief to that he was alright, but not once in fear of what would happen to her. "I love you, Harry." She kissed the stubble of his cheek and released him.

She turned to Ron, who appeared almost angry, his eyes tight. She touched his shoulder. "It'll be alright," she told him.

Hermione watched as their visages broke, realizing that they weren't going to win. She didn't want to think of the very real possibility (probability) that she would never see them again. Her dear friends, her brothers. She couldn't bear the idea.

Gripping her wand, she thought of Asgard; of Loki, and willed herself to him. Her forearm became hot, the golden runes shimmering on the flesh of her wrist to the crook of her elbow. She grinned and disapparated.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

Hermione appeared out of nowhere, stumbling and falling on her side, her wand clattering and rolling across the marble flooring. It was better than dropping from the ceiling. She had meant to go straight to Loki's room (which was unlikely to be guarded), but apparting to another realm was not easy as apparting in Midgard. It did seem as though she was in a corridor somewhere in the castle, which was a start.

She reached for her wand, but a gold boot descended, trapping it. She looked up into a gold helmet, into uncaring brown eyes. The guard grabbed the back of her neck, his armored fingers digging into her flesh as he roughly jerked her to her feet.

"You must be the invading mortal!" His voice was gruff.

She didn't answer, and he began marching down the hall, her being forced to stay at his side. She struggled to keep up, for every step of his were two of hers. She was relieved to see that wherever they were going they arrived quickly. Two large doors swung open as they drew closer.

The bright noon sun lit the long hall, the white marble almost blinding, but she instantly spotted Loki, on his knees in front of his parents on their gilded thrones, his brother beside them. He was wrapped in thick chains, his wrist bound behind him, his mouth covered by a strange metal device that wrapped to the back of his head.

The loud steps of the guard alerted their attention. Odin's face was unchanging, masking whatever it was that he thought of her intrusion, but Frigga was obviously surprised. Thor caught her eye and gave her a short nod of thanks.

Loki lazily turned to see what the commotion was about, his visage seemingly bored, but when he spotted her it twisted into fear. All she felt was relief at seeing him unharmed. He was okay and he would better soon.

The guard shoved her to her knees in front of the King and Queen, keeping a firm hold of her neck. She didn't fight, but heard Loki growl at the guard's behavior.

"The intruder is back," the guard announced as if it wasn't obvious.

"What do we owe this visit," Frigga asked.

"I'm here to bargain for Loki's release." She tried not to sound as scared as she was.

Loki shook his head, the muscles in his arms tightening, but no one paid him any mind.

Odin sat straighter in his chair. "That is a steep cost."

"I brought the stone." Hermione took it out of her pocket, holding it out to them.

Frigga approached, and with her back to her family, she gave her a kind smile. It calmed Hermione knowing that at least someone was on her side. The Queen took the stone, angling it, inspecting it closely. "It is the stone," she declared.

Odin waited until his wife was seated. "It is appreciated that you trespass on our realm and in our castle - again - with stolen property. However, I should inform you that it will not be enough."

"You have the stone," Hermione said. "No harm is done."

"A crime was committed and someone must pay."

She didn't think, she didn't spare a breath. "I'll take Loki's place."

Metal rattled as Loki thrashed, his usual slick hair falling over his brows, but the chains tightened, pinning him down. She could only imagine the words that he would say to her if he had been allowed to speak.

Gravely, Thor closed his eyes, as if preparing for the downfall. As if he was losing something, too.

Odin lowered his head a fraction. "You are willing to take his place?"

She raised her chin in a bravery she didn't quite feel. "I stole the stone. It was my intention for the Ministry to examine its powers. Loki Odinson was not involved."

For a moment that stretched into eternity, Odin was silent. His fingers drummed Gungnir, the spear, that he held. He then spoke to the guard only, "take her to the dungeon."

Loki howled, it muffled by the device over his mouth. He fought against his chains and she parted her mouth to speak, but nothing came. What was there to say? How could she say goodbye?

The guard snatched her up by her hair. Her knees buckled from the pain that shot through her skull. It was barbaric, but she wasn't Asgardian and she had made a fool of them twice. Of course they'd be angered.

"Father," Thor spoke, causing the guard to pause. "This isn't necessary. Maybe without the stone she'll be unable to breach again."

"That's just it son. 'Again.' She has violated our safety twice. In fact, it is imperative that she is questioned."

Loki's yelled, his eyes were wide with rage and fear, his neck tense. He looked almost maddened.

Thor broke his stance, staring down at his father as if he didn't recognize him. "She's mortal, father, she wouldn't survive questioning."

"Do not challenge me, son. This is still my rule. She is to undergo questioning tomorrow at dawn. If she survives, she will live out the rest of her life in our dungeons."

Frigga touched her mouth, looking away from the scene, out to the bright shining sky, a stark contrast to the storm that was happening within. It was obvious she wanted to overrule her husband, but she did not utter a word. Hermione felt abandoned by that reaction. There truly was no one that would help her.

Thor peered at Hermione sadly. There was an apology in his gaze. "Then let her say goodbye to him," he implored. When Odin didn't respond, Thor pressed. "The only person Loki has loved he will never see again."

"Release her," the Allfather ordered the guard.

Hermione dropped to the floor, but quickly scrambled to her feet, only to fall to her knees in front of Loki. She embraced him, burying her face into his neck, the scent of incensed pine filling her lungs. She felt him lean into her shoulder, a warm wetness dampening her shirt.

"It was worth it," she whispered to him, "to have met you." She kissed his neck and pulled back to press a hard kiss above his left brow.

He touched his forehead to hers and she combed her fingers through his hair. She held on for as long as she dared. Not wishing to be forced from him, but to leave on her own terms, she let him go, and shakily pushed herself to her feet. It was the hardest thing she had to do.

Hermione turned and addressed Thor. "Tell Harry that I died in the Bifrost. Tell him to keep his promise not to come after me."

He dipped his head in agreement.

"Go," Odin told the guard.

Her captor yanked on her curls once more, bringing her back toward him. He spoke in her ear, loud enough for everyone to hear. "A Midgardian in my custody? I'll break you too soon."

Loki doubled over, broken. Hermione hoped that he would forgive her, because it was worth it. He would be free.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

The dank dungeon was a maze of stone with windows for the cells. The guard stopped at one that was much larger than the others, containing a bed, and a desk and chair she recognized as being Loki's. The guard pushed her through, and she fell hard, pain shooting through her wrists. Behind her, he laughed, but when she turned around, he was gone.

She stood in front of what she had thought was specialized glass, but when she pressed her hand to it, intricate designs erupted from the pressure, pushing her back. She imagined that it was unbreakable, at least to her. Not that she would dare try to escape, not knowing what would happen to Loki if she did.

Hermione backed away, and went to the desk. She ran her hand over the grain, pausing when she saw the topmost parchment bearing her name in beautiful script.

 _My Beloved Hermione,_

 _You have received this letter with news of my imprisonment. Understand that at the end of my sentence you will have long taken your last breath. I ask that you don't come here; know that my father will not allow you to go unpunished. Let this letter contain my last words to you.  
_

 _You will never know the forces behind your journey to Asgard, or why we met, but know that I will find you in your next life. I made an oath and it is one I'll keep. I will find you again.  
_

 _Yours, Loki_

Tears falling, she set the letter to the side, revealing a blank parchment underneath. She took the quill and began writing her own letter.

 _Loki,_

 _My life before you was peaceful, settled, and lovely. Something was missing and when I touched that stone and came here, I realized it was you. You were what I was missing. You changed everything and there is not a moment I regret._

 _I'm sorry, but I couldn't let you take the punishment that was mine. I know you're angry with me but I would do it again._

 _I can't say with certainty that I will ever live another life. I'm not sure such a thing exists, but if it does, I hope to meet you again. Maybe next time, we won't have to part so soon.  
_

 _With Love, Hermione_

She placed the quill beside the parchment and went over to the bed, perching herself on the edge. She looked at her surroundings, at Loki's things, her last letter, to the impregnable walls. She buried her face in her hands. What just happened came over her like a wave. That cell would be where she would die and with any luck it would be tomorrow.

Yet, even that information wasn't enough to form regret. Loki was safe, he could go forth, and put the nightmare that had become her intrusion on his life to an end.

"Granger."

Sniffling, Hermione dropped her hands. Outside of her cell was Thor.

"Your brother is free," she said, giving a wet smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"He's not expressing the same happiness as you are." From a pouch on his side he withdrew a handheld mirror. "This is mother's. I don't think she'd mind you borrowing it."

"What would I do with a mirror," she asked as he slid it through the barrier.

"It's a two way device. Jane likened it to a talkie walkie."

She giggled despite herself. The mirror made of silver was ornately designed with embossed flowers. She handled it with care, lifting it up, but instead of showing her face, it showed the throne room, Odin and Frigga still presiding over their son.

Loki remained in his chains, but the device was no longer over his mouth. His visage was icy and hard and his words were venom. "Bring her back."

"I should think you would be happy, Loki. Your life was traded for a mortal's. A mortal, who once again invaded our realm. I assure you, she will not last long."

Loki shut his eyes, his fists strikingly white. "Place me back into my cell and release her."

"I cannot do that, son."

"You old fool," Loki screamed maliciously, his eyes wild. "Letting a mortal scare you so!"

Slowly, Odin rose and approached him. Although Hermione wasn't there, she swore she felt an electricity spike in the air. "What will you offer?"

Loki was stunned, his voice low. "Offer?"

"She gave her life for yours. What will you give to save hers?"

Loki's eye twitched. "Whatever you wish, take it."

"Shall I take your life? Your power?"

Through clenched teeth, he hissed, "take what you wish."

Odin placed his hand on top of his head. "My dear son, Loki. It seems that this young mortal has softened you."

"Make your decision, father, I'm growing impatient."

"She will never be like you. Her life is fleeting."

"That can be changed."

"You'd bind yourself to her?"

"Yes."

"And if I forbid you to see her again?"

Loki visibly flinched, his breath sharp. "You are my king and I have never disobeyed you." The biting statement was obviously in direct comparison with his brother.

The Allfather seated himself and took his spear, knocking it thrice on the floor, sparks flying. Hermione heard it as if it were right next to her.

"I hereby decree Hermione Granger be released from her cell immediately and presented before me."

Loki slumped, his forehead gently meeting the marble, and the scene faded to black.

Around her, the walls turned to gold and the barrier disappeared. Cautiously, she stepped her foot out. When nothing happened, she stepped down, handing the mirror back to Thor who returned it to his pouch.

"It will be quicker if we fly," he held out his arm, and Hermione stepped into it. He held tightly to her waist as he spun Mjolnir over his head. It was impossible for the stagnate atmosphere to form even the smallest breeze, but through the halls, a strong wind picked them up. Their feet lifted off the floor and they flew through the corridor, up the stairs.

Hermione rode broomsticks, Dragons, Thestrals, and Hippogriffs. Riding on the wind was perhaps better than a Thestral (which was the worst), but it definitely wasn't a preferred method of travel. Thankfully, they were barely inches from the floor and they arrived outside of the throne room quickly (although, perhaps not quickly enough for Hermione's liking).

Thor opened the door and she ran ahead. Remembering herself and who was watching, she slowed to a stop a short ways away, her eyes meeting Loki's. She wished to go to him, but she stayed where she was.

Frigga waved her hand, the chains clattering to the floor. Shakily, as if he hadn't stood in ages, he got to his feet and began to hobble over to her. She ran to meet him halfway, colliding with him, nearly knocking them both off their feet. Loki clutched her tightly, as if she was a lifeline.

Reluctantly, he let her go, and Thor's large hand clamped on her arm. She stumbled back, allowing him to support her weight.

Loki faced his parents. Frigga seemed to be in a state of shock, the tips of her fingers touching her rosy lips in contemplation. Odin seemed to be in a similar state, as well, he was studying his son as if he had never seen him before.

"What is the price," Loki asked.

Odin was silent for a long time, then, he gripped the edge of the armchair. "My orders are thus: You are to join the mortal Hermione Granger to research this stone. You are to report your findings to Thor Odinson so he may prevent such intrusions in the future. You have seven nights." In a tone of a disapproving father, he added, "you may return to her."

Loki bowed and stepped back, reaching out to her. She placed her hand in his, and he lead her away from the room.

His presence was overwhelming, his hold on her unyielding, on the break of painful. Anger rolled off of him in waves.

In the quiet and empty corridor beside the door to his room, he spun on her, his eyes flashing dangerously. "Don't ever trade your life for mine again," he seethed.

Hermione clenched her fists, balking at his behavior. "I was not going to leave you in that prison for giving me something I asked for."

"Your a candle to a million stars. Your life without me is short, but mine without you is an eternity in darkness."

She raised herself to her toes, nearing herself to his face. "Don't compare our pains or dare make an accusation that mine would be less than yours because I'm mortal."

He kissed her suddenly, his hand clamping the back of her neck. When she cried out, he drew back. With care, he swept her hair to the side.

"He hurt you."

"I'm fine."

"He won't be."

"Loki, please, don't." She gripped the front of his tunic, pleading with him to see reason. "Let's put it behind us. It doesn't matter now."

His internal struggle was clear, but he yielded to her, offering her a barely perceptible nod. "If you wish." The intensity in which he stared at her gave her pause.

"What is it," she asked worriedly.

"I thought I would never see you again." His thumb brushed her bottom lip before taking her mouth with his. He pressed her against the wall, his body flush against hers, and his hardness rubbed against her covered sex.

Hermione moaned, his hands gripping her hips like a vice. She secured her arms around him, the ends of his hair tickling the inside of her wrists. His palms ran up her sides, over her breasts, her stomach, to her jeans. He unbuttoned them, sliding a hand in.

She scanned the hallway, gladly not spotting a guard, but she knew they patrolled nearly every hall of the castle.

"I'm keeping us hidden," he promised, slipping two slender fingers inside her.

Every worry disappeared and she groaned, finding purchase on his shoulders. Despite knowing full well that they were cloaked, she felt exposed. He pushed to his knuckles, hitting her sweetest spot, his thumb firmly rubbing her clit in small circles. There was no escape between him and the wall, unable to move as he explored her. Once again, she was at his mercy.

She tried holding back, sensibility telling her not to cum in such a public place, but Loki leaned down to her ear. "It's okay. Let go," he commanded.

Hermione bit her bottom lip, tasting the copper of her blood as she tried not to scream out her orgasm. When she came down, her legs barely held her, and she relaxed against his chest. Behind her knees, he lifted her, carrying her into his room, depositing her on the bed. In two tugs, he jerked her jeans and pants down, discarding them on the floor. He then made quick work of his own clothes.

For the first time, she truly saw him naked. There were white scars over his stomach, sides, his shoulders and arms. Every scar told a story, a battle that had taken place. She wanted to know each one, but at a later time, because right then, all she could think of was how beautiful he was, how hard he was, and the way his heated gaze raked over her body.

Hermione raised herself on her elbows, but he forced her back, keeping a hold on her chest as he pushed himself into her wetness. "Always tight," he exhaled as she moaned, bunching the blanket in her fists. He pushed her shirt up, taking hold of her breasts, squeezing them roughly. He impaled her mercilessly, his dominance overwhelming to her senses, his dark scent and the contour of him molding himself to her as he laid on top of her, driving into her. He was around her, inside of her, bringing her up and up.

She arched her back, feeling a wound tightness inside of her about to come loose. It became too much for her and for the second time that night, she came hard, this time around him, her whole being quivering. His hips jerked forward and he stroked her hair. "That's it," he encouraged.

His tongue snaked along her neck, from her collarbone to the back of her ear. "Mine," he rasped. He pulled down her neckline to see the mar of his teeth that he had given her last time. He slid her shirt over her head, tossing it to the side, returning to the mark. Seemingly pleased that it was still there, he skimmed his fingers over it, feeling its indention, not once slowing his pace.

The night eclipsed the room and Hermione's body was in a thin sheen of sweat. Loki was nearly insatiable and she felt raw, but unable to deny him, not matter how her muscles ached. He bit her breasts, her shoulders, her neck, he gripped and contused her waist, her shoulders, her back, her legs. She lost count of how many times she reached her peak.

Then, he held her shoulders as he drove her fully on his length, growling as he emptied himself inside of her. The tips of his fingers trailed the curve of her waist. He didn't let her go as he rolled over, keeping her held against his chest.

Resting her ear against the curve of his ribs, she listened to his rapid heartbeat slowing, bringing her down. She was nearly asleep when he removed himself from her side. Sliding his arms under her back and legs, he picked her up, carrying her to the bathroom where he sat her in the tub.

Without a word, she watched as the tub filled with steaming water, the candles around them coming to life. He climbed in behind her, pulling her against him. He ran his hands over her arm, kissing her neck.

Leisurely, he reached for the nearest taper. He brought it over, hovering it over her left breast. A drop of wax fell, landing on her nipple, stinging her. She hissed, throwing her head back and he wrapped an arm around her, securing her to his front.

"Shhh," he whispered to her, trying to relax her as he let the wax fall in patterns over her breasts. He set it to the side, and carefully, he peeled the hardened drops away, leaving bright red marks.

Against her spine, she felt that he had stiffened again. She whimpered in exhaustion, and he peppered her neck in kisses.

In silence, he brought coconut shampoo to her hair, raking his fingers through her tresses, massaging her scalp. She relaxed, allowing every pain to wash away. He ran a soaped cloth over her arms and legs, over her breasts and between her legs.

When she was sufficiently clean, he kicked the stopper from the tub, draining the water. He stood, pulling her with him. He reached for a white folded towel, and he dried her head to foot before wrapping her in it.

She waited as he toweled himself off. She wished that she was lucid enough to enjoy it, but she could barely feel herself standing. Seeing her sway, Loki picked her up once more and carried her to bed, stripping her of her sole covering.

He climbed on top of her, his nose tracing the outer edge of her ear. "I'm going to take you again, right now" he told her in warning. She muttered her acknowledgement, nearing a taste of dreams until he brought her back with a sharp pain.

"Shhh," he soothed her, kissing her forehead.

Time passed between sleep and Loki and somewhere in the midst she had came and so did he. She was aware of being in his arms, the blanket over them, but was too far gone to feel the kiss to the top of her head or the promise he made to her.

"I won't let you go, not again."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

Seven nights. That was how long she was given to research the stone. It was how long she had in Asgard. They fell into their routine seamlessly of him reading and her writing. She asked Loki if he saw what was written on the stone, but he told her he took it quickly and without inspection. So they tried to find answers that no tome provided and their time was up. Her time with Loki was up.

Leaving him was going to crush her, she knew that. She had always known that. She tried to push those thoughts away.

Hermione dressed in the clothes that was provided for her. The dress was a deep royal blue of an unknown silk, but it hung low, revealing her shoulders and thus the bite marks and bruises in the shape of Loki's teeth and fingers.

It gave her a great sense of pride, but she was uncertain about them showing. "Do they have anything more modest," she asked him.

From his supine position on the bed, he smiled, "perhaps, but I'd rather you not cover the evidence of our acts. It shows who you belong to."

She heated under his gaze. "Loki..."

"It is an order," he said with seriousness and finality.

She sighed. Although she couldn't have very well deny orders from a prince, she found that she didn't want to. Hermione had always been naturally bossy, and she knew with enough pressing, Loki would give into her, but she didn't want that. She liked the freedom that his nature gave her.

"I'm going to miss you," she said, almost to herself.

Loki swung his legs over the bed, sitting up and tugging her in his arms. "I'll see you again. I'll find my way to you."

"Without breaking the law," she asked teasingly.

"Never," he said pretending to be shocked causing her to laugh before he brought her to his lips briefly.

"Should we go," she wondered, worried that they'd be late.

Odin had summoned her that morning for her questioning. Fortunately, it was assured that it would not be of the sort one would give a prisoner. That didn't make her less nervous. Intimidating was not a strong enough word for how he made her feel.

Loki sprung up from the bed and took her arm. They walked through the castle toward Odin's study. She noticed how the guards they passed stared, she could feel them watch their retreating backs.

Loki's hand stayed on her lower back firmly, his thumb rubbing in circles. It was comforting, easing her frazzled emotions.

Then, a guard broke away from his station against a wall, placing himself in front of them. He took off his helmet revealing dirty blond hair, a scar that began at his hairline, crossed over his crooked nose and ended at his chin. Helmet under his arm, he brought a fist over his heart respectfully. "Prince."

They paused, the man kneeling at Loki's feet, his head bowed. Loki didn't utter a word, only looked down at him with disdain.

"I seek your forgiveness in the behavior I demonstrated during the trial."

It must have been the man that had treated her roughly. Hermione saw that he was fearful, not daring to look Loki in the face and that probably was best. His face was set in hatred, his fingers itching by the dagger at his waist.

"Perhaps your groveling would be best directed at the woman you mistreated."

The guard began shaking. "Ms. Granger, I ask your forgiveness for my slight."

Hermione was hardly able to believe the terror that was wracking the poor man. She nodded before she spoke, "yes, of course, you're forgiven."

"You may stand," Loki granted. "From now on you direct your apologies to the offended party. Take heed that if you treat her as property of mine or anyone else's again that you will owe more than an apology."

Hermione had a nasty feeling that he meant his life.

"Yes. Of course." The guard hung his head, returning to his post.

When they passed, Hermione looked over her shoulder at him. His head was just raising, his whole body trembling.

"You scared him," she chastised, looking forward.

"He deserved to be scared."

"Why are they afraid of you?"

"They treated me poorly in my youth. The tricky younger brother of the great and mighty Thor. I may have asserted my position."

"You should have been kinder to him."

"He thought of you as nothing more than an object. You may belong to me, but you are not property. There is a difference."

Loki said no more as they stopped in front of a door. As he went to open it, the guard on the left placed himself in his way. "I have my orders, Prince, only Granger may enter."

He took a deep breath and undid the clasp of his cloak draping it around her, making certain they were covering her wounds. "I'll wait here."

The guard opened the door and she stepped into a study. It was twice as large as Dumbledore's office, and held three times as many objects and books. She refrained her curiosity, wishing to touch and inspect all of them.

"Welcome, Ms. Granger." Frigga stood from behind the desk, approaching her. "I hope you're not disappointed, but I asked my husband if I could speak with you instead."

Relieved, Hermione let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. "Yes, of course, ma'am."

"Please, you may call me Frigga."

"Yes, thank you. Hermione." She steeled herself. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't learn anymore about the stone."

Figga's eyes were a gentle warmth, but sad. "I asked Heimdall to tell me more of you. You have an interesting history. You set a teacher on fire, and abducted and jailed a woman in a jar and you started a rebellion. You were in a war and vital to its victory."

"There were circumstances -"

"I know." Frigga touched her shoulder, her eyes warm but serious. "You are much like Loki."

She was like Loki? "I'm sorry?"

"Loki dances in the gray that you touch with love. Your light eases him. You affect him. I was informed of a conversation that was overheard. You asked him for mercy on behalf of a guard. If not for you, that guard would have suffered immensely."

"Frigga," she started, the name odd on her tongue. "I'm sorry, but I don't understand..."

She straightened, releasing her shoulder. "The stone said, 'true love will find a way.'"

Hermione blinked. "It was meant to find love?"

"Yes. When I saw the stone in your hand I knew the reason. When I inspected it, I knew who. Magic leaves a fingerprint and it was one I am most familiar with."

Hermione grimaced as a terrible feeling settled in her stomach. "Why not tell me?"

"You are a young mortal and this situation required caution."

"Why tell me now? Why order me to research the stone? You already _knew_ everything."

"To give you time. It's a precious gift especially for a mortal, but I fear time is up and you, dear one, should know the truth. I'm sorry, Hermione. You may go."

She nodded, walking out into the hall. She knew that her face betrayed her emotions, but she didn't have time or privacy to be diplomatic about it - even if she was good at hiding her feelings. No, she knew that Loki would see her heartbreak.

He was leaning against the wall, one leg underneath him, flipping a dagger idly, but quickly straightened when he spotted her. He didn't seem surprised by her reaction, almost as if he expected it.

"Ms. Granger," he spoke formally.

"We need to talk."

Without a word, he waved his arm, offering her to walk beside him. The silence was deafening, the questions burning inside of her, demanding answers. Love magic... Loki's stone... Her blood ran cold. Loki had been lying since the beginning. He had lied to her that morning even.

When he closed the door behind him, Hermione wheeled to face him. "Tell me the truth, Loki."

He cocked his head at her sudden outburst. "I imagine that you had quite the riveting conversation with the Allfather."

"It was your mother."

He nodded, "ah."

She was feeling on the verge of panic and more than ever, she wanted her wand. "Did you create the stone?"

Loki cringed and forced out, "yes."

The tears fell and seared her cheeks. Her throat was thick with sadness, with betrayal. "Why me" she choked out.

"I was taken from Jountheim as a baby, as a pawn to be used to keep the peace between the realms. I lived in the shadow of a rash brother who could do no wrong. I was misplaced, lonely and I wanted something of my own. I wanted my soul mate."

The words hit her in her chest, knocking the breath out of her lungs. She fell into the desk chair, her hands on her knees. Her head swam. She had read about them, soul mates were incredibly complex, but were either natural or created through strong love. If natural (as her and Loki appeared to be), there was a draw toward each other.

She couldn't help but think of the spell for something must have been convoluted. On Midgard there wasn't even a spell to determine who your soul mate was, much less find them.

"Why now?"

"Because it took a millennia for you to be born. For you to be ready for me."

She looked up. Loki stood as still as a statue, watching her reaction.

"Soul mates," she breathed. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't wish to frighten you."

Abruptly, she stood, the chair legs scraping against the floor loudly. "I was taken here, I was afraid! My wand had been confiscated! I thought my life was in danger!" She was yelling, her anger bubbling up from her anguish.

Shocked, he looked as if she'd slapped him. "I would never allow harm to come to you."

She shook her head. "You lied to me!"

"To save you from pain? Yes. In your best interest I will always lie!"

"How was any of this in my best interest?!"

"To spare you fear when you learn that a monster is your soul mate. My gift to you was ignorance."

She gawked at him. "You are not a monster! Loki, soul mates aren't random, you weren't a luck of the draw, we... Just are."

"But they aren't always happy, are they?"

Her chest was rising and descending rapidly, breath short. She let the tears fall, but as Loki moved to sweep them away she moved back. "I want my wand.

The corners of his eyes contracted in anger and pain, but her wand appeared in his hand. She took it.

"Goodbye, Loki."

"No!" He reached out for her, but she had already willed herself home.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

When Hermione landed, she landed in the back of her garden, falling onto her hands and knees. Since she had been aiming for her bedroom, she seemed to be improving.

She got to her feet, her head swimming, her skin burning. It was normal, she thought, as it happened last time, but the burning continued. That wasn't normal. She looked to her arm, but the runes had faded. There was no sign of redness or scarring, nothing that would give reason for the pain.

In one shaky step toward the door, her legs gave out and she fell to the frozen ground. A blade of dying yellow grass was splashed red. She touched her under her nose, feeling a warm wetness. Her fingertips were crimson.

What was happening to her?

"Hermione?" Harry called out from the doorway, but when he saw her, he rushed to her side. "Hermione! What's happened?"

"I - I don't know..." She fought against it, pushing herself to her side.

"Hermione!" She heard Loki's voice behind her.

Harry leapt to his feet, wand in hand, pointing it at Loki's chest. "Who are you?"

"Loki Odinson," he said, his hands raised, but there wasn't even a glimmer of fear.

"What happened to her? Did you do this?"

"The rune was misused, it wasn't me. It was an accident. I need to take her back."

"Not likely," he spat. "Our Healers will see her."

"Your Healers can do nothing for her! This is of Asgard and only Asgard can heal her."

She hated knowing that it was true. She hated that the man she had just ran away from had to go and save her, to bring her back to the place she left. Yet, the burning was intensifying, she was quickly losing any semblance of focus. "Harry," she rasped, "I need to go with him."

Slowly, Harry lowered his wand, but stayed close as Loki lifted her into his arms. He cradled her against his chest, her head resting on his tunic. She relished in the feeling of his cold hands on her heated body.

"Take care of her," Harry asked.

"Always."

The night sky of Midgard seamlessly gave way to the marble ceilings of the castle. The wind disappeared and so did Harry and her garden. She was back in Asgard, in the castle.

"Get a Healer, now," Loki told someone - a guard likely, not ceasing in his steps. "Tell them to come to my room with their equipment."

Footsteps faded as another came closer behind them. "What is this, brother," Thor's voice boomed.

"She's injured," he answered, his tone as sharp as a knife.

"Answer me better."

Loki didn't.

"LOKI!" Thor's thunderous roar was so loud it shuddered her bones. Surely the whole castle heard.

Soon she was being lowered gently onto a bed - Loki's bed. "Stay still," he told her softly.

Her nose continued to bleed, the tickled heat running down her cheek. Sweat rolled into her soaked hair. Her body began to shake, as if she was cold, but she wasn't, she was burning alive.

Thor inspected her, taking in her distressed state, the blood and the bruises. "Did you hurt her," he seethed, as if he already knew the answer. When he didn't receive one, his yell echoed off of the walls. "Did you hurt her?!"

"Yes."

A crash sounded and Loki was on the floor, pieces of the wall falling around him. He grunted to stand. Hermione whimpered, but could not move. She felt on the verge of fainting, the scene blurring before her.

"How dare you land a hand on her!" Thor took him by the front of his tunic, bringing him nose-to-nose with the man. "After I tell father what you did, you will _never_ see her or anyone again."

"No," she sighed, "he... Didn't." Every word was pain, her teeth gritting against it. Whatever was happening to her, she knew that Loki wasn't responsible, at least not directly.

Thor didn't release him, not believing a word of it. "Tell me now how you did this and we could still save her."

"The rune is inside of her now," Loki explained quietly. "It was misused and they are malfunctioning, creating a pain, burning her, bursting her vessels."

"The bruises?"

"The result of my nights with her."

Thor's stormy blue eyes flashed like lightening. Thunder clapped and Loki was thrown against the wall again, more chunks of marble falling on him and clattering to the floor like rain. The small Ice Giant didn't fight back, he only sat up, the marble rolling off of him.

"Do you understand what you have done?! The cause of her pain is your selfishness, brother! You aren't worthy of her!"

"I know..." His voice was small and defeated and it broke Hermione's heart.

"Please," she exhaled. "Loki..."

As if by instinct, Loki reached for her, but Thor knocked him away, his back hitting the wall. Several Healers entered the room then, gathering around her, blocking her view of the brothers. She felt countless of hands on her head, her arms.

"You two must leave," a Healer insisted.

"I'm not leaving," said Loki bitingly.

"You will," Thor shot back. "You're going to tell father about this!"

There was the ruffled sounds of clothing, and she imagined that Thor was pushing Loki out. The door loudly snapped closed and the only sounds were the whirring of machines she didn't recognize.

"Tell us, dear, do you know how this happened," a Healer asked. She looked like a young Professor McGonagall, her hair in a tight bun and strict but kind eyes behind a pair of thick spectacles.

"I don't know," she told her. It was the truth, but not completely. Whatever it was, it had to do with the stone, Hermione was sure. She only didn't know why. Why then? What changed? She didn't dare tell the Healers her suspicions, not when Loki was under scrutiny again.

She tried to think of a reason for her condition, but she couldn't focus, her brain muddled by the pain, by the fever. The room was a blur and she fell into darkness.

A thunderstorm rumbled in the distance drawing ever closer.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

Hermione's eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the daylight. It streamed peacefully from the windows, but was swallowed by the darkness emitting in the room. It was cloaked somehow, the taste of bitterness and deep sadness lingering.

Loki sat in the chair beside her. There were deep creases between his brows, a darkness circling his haunted eyes, sparking when he saw her wake. "How are you faring?"

"Better." She pushed herself up, leaning against the ornate headboard. Nothing hurt, in fact, she felt quite well rested. "Much better."

"You've healed well, there won't be residual damage, but it will be a couple of days until you're at full strength. You will return home then."

Despite the anger that she had for him, the thought of leaving again sent a hollow feeling through her. "Oh."

Hermione sighed. "How are you?"

He smirked dryly. "If you're referring to the argument, I've had worse fights with my brother."

"You told me the stories," she giggled. "Turning into a snake to scare him?"

"Did he mention he stabbed me?"

Hermione's heart jumped and she turned to see Thor on the other side, against the broken wall, his bulky arms crossed over his bulky chest. He inclined his head in apology for her fright. "Due to your injuries and who inflicted them, I couldn't very well leave you alone with him."

"This wasn't his fault."

"Your condition was his fault. If it wasn't for _mother_ insisting, he would be in the dungeon."

Hermione heard the brotherly tone. Even in anger, she could tell that Thor had some jealousy for Loki. She wondered if Loki could see that. While the latter wished for the favor of their father, Thor wished the closeness that Loki had with their mother.

 _Brothers,_ she thought sarcastically. Having been around the Weasley's long enough, she heard her fair share of sibling fights. Only, they never ended in stabbing or threatening prison sentences. She was very glad to be an only child.

"You stabbed him," she asked Loki, her brows raised, sounding only a tad scolding.

He smiled. "What my dear brother is omitting, is that he stabbed me first."

"It was a cut. We were sparring! It was an accident."

"The sparring was over and my back was turned."

"Oh, this again! This is why mother had to teach you magic!"

"Stop," she demanded loudly, before either of them truly lost their temper. She shook her head. "He didn't mean to hurt me, Thor. You don't have to watch over us."

The large man reached over, taking her hand. Loki's exhale came out in a hiss, but Thor ignored him. "If you don't feel safe -"

"I'm safe. Thank you," she added sincerely.

He waited a beat as if hoping she'd change her mind. "I'm sure," she assured him, and only then did he leave, casting a glance over his shoulder. The door snapped louder than necessary.

Loki moved to stand. "I shall find you something to eat -"

She held out a hand, stopping him. "Wait. What happened to me?"

The mask fell and he settled back into the chair. "The stone was meant to find you, but, the runes that are now in your skin allows you to come to me. No matter where I am in the Nine Realms, you can always find me."

"They weren't meant to be used to leave you."

Loki nodded.

"You didn't tell me that. You _weren't_ going to tell me that," she corrected herself.

He grimaced, drenched in sorrow and self-hate. "I trick and I lie. It's used for the kingdom and for what I think is best. It appears, it's not best for you. I thought I was saving you, but I was saving myself. I didn't want to see the horror on your face when you realized what I was."

"I told you, I don't care if you're Frost Giant or Asgardian -"

"Not caring that a Frost Giant was looking after you is far different than one in your bed, and that is different than one for eternity."

"All I care about, is that you lied."

"I wish I could promise you I won't again, but I can't. I can promise that if your life does not depend on it, I will _never_ deceive you."

The truth of his words rung in her head so loud it almost hurt. She held out her hand in offering, hoping he'd take it, but it hung there. Loki looked to be in more pain. "I forgive you," she pressed, but he flinched. It was as though he felt he didn't deserve it.

"Can you stand," he asked her.

"Yes."

He helped her out of bed. Barefoot, she stood there, in only a simple white nightgown as Loki descended, kneeling at her feet, his head bowed, touching the floor. The position, one of servitude, stole the air from her lungs. He was showing weakness, placing her above himself.

Through his lashes, he peered up at her. "On my life, I will never deceive you for any sake other than your own."

She reached out, threading his silky hair through her fingers. She lowered herself to the floor, her knees touching his. She cradled his face, lifting to hers and placed a kiss on his lips. Slowly, he reached up and held her wrists, bringing her hands to his mouth, dragging kisses over her palms, over each finger. He kissed her forehead, her nose, her lips gently.

She stood, bringing him with her. She stumbled, and he caught her around the waist, steadying her. "You need a couple of days," he told her, pushing her back in bed and brought the blankets over her. He kissed her head, brushing her hair back. "Shall I tell you a new story?"

Hermione beamed, "yes."

Loki returned to his chair, bringing it closer to her bedside. He took her hand, linking their fingers. "Have I told you the tale of the woman who fell through my ceiling?"

She laughed, "I'd love to hear it."


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

Although she was perfectly healthy, Loki insisted that she stay on the bed for a full two days. It was irritating, remaining on the bed and his insistence at helping her to the bathroom (luckily he stayed outside of the door while she did what she needed to), but the irritation of being quite that dependent was offset by being with him.

They talked and she listened to more of his stories, and he showed off by creating falling snow in the palm of his hand. She challenged him by waving her wand and creating flurries over the bed. While flakes caught on her lashes and in his hair, he upped her, the entire room falling away and they were on the edge of a snowy mountain, a storm picking up around them.

"Is this real," she yelled, peering over the bed, seeing the sharp drop-off of the mountain, and the deadly cliffs below it. "Whoa!" She quickly backed herself into Loki.

He laughed, the surroundings disappearing, and they were back in the bedroom. "It wasn't real, but I think you gave any guards within ear-shot something to think about."

She slapped his arm.

On her last day, she lied on her side to mold herself to him as he read from one of his books. He had only begun the second chapter when Thor came through the opened door. He stared at them for a moment, taking in their intimate position. In sudden embarrassment, she pulled away from Loki and sat up. Loki, however, didn't move, only placed his book to the side.

"May I help you," he asked in disdain.

"Father wishes to speak with us," said Thor.

"Both of us?" That intrigued him.

"It has come to his attention of our choice of... Partners."

Hermione sucked in her bottom lip. Loki didn't show any sign of worry as she had.

"You're to be king," he reminded his brother, only the slightest hint of malice lacing his tone.

"You are still a prince of Asgard and this law affects you, too."

"Ah. My orders to guard her have been temporarily suspended then?"

"She'll be watched by a guard, Loki."

"Which guard?"

"It's okay," Hermione interjected, knowing he was thinking of the guard that had hurt her.

Loki heaved a great sigh as he rolled himself out of bed. He kissed the part in her hair and left with his brother, who she swore muttered, "still weird."

Hermione chuckled, but the worry still ate at her. To distract herself she picked up the book Loki had been reading and admired the paintings inside. She looked the art of giants, goat and cat drawn carriages, and a tree where a young Odin hung upside down.

When Loki returned, his face was grave. She drew herself to her knees as he sat next to her, setting the book aside and taking her hand.

"This is serious," she noted, her heart sinking, readying itself to be broken.

"The Allfather has seen fit to needlessly remind me of a decree. A decree that states that mortals may not remain on Asgard."

Hermione swallowed the lump forming in her throat. "We knew this, Loki. I can't stay here."

"I'm aware. It is why I asked to be dismissed of my position so I may join you in Midgard. I may not be welcomed by... Certain people, but if I arrive under your Ministry, I can stay."

Her heart stuttered. "You'd do that?"

Loki's thumb ran over the hills of her knuckles. "I'd follow you anywhere, but there will be a day I must return here. My brother will be king and I'll be needed to advise him - particularly not to run Asgard into ruins."

She chuckled dryly and nodded. "I understand. How much time does that give us?" She wanted to know the exact amount of time she had with him, with his mischievous smirk, his intelligence - everything, until he was forced from her life.

He hesitated, studying her.

"Loki," she urged him to continue, worried.

He tightened his hold on her. "Do you wish to stay at my side? To return to Asgard with me when the time comes?"

"Of course," she said, surprised that he needed to ask.

Pleased, he palmed her cheek, bearing into her eyes. "Good. Then one day, I expect you to bind yourself to me."

She breathed deeply. It was not something that had crossed her mind as she had thought they wouldn't even have a future. Yet, as she thought of it, she wanted it. She wanted him.

"Speak, my beloved. Is this what you'd wish?"

Hermione beamed, "I wish."

He brought her mouth to his, her, his thumb dragging over her cheekbone. It was a passionate, but short-lived kiss. He withdrew far too soon, his eyes flickering over every detail of her face. "You must rest before we leave."

There was no use arguing with him, and she wasn't inclined to. They had a future; they had time. So as he reclined against the pillows, she found her spot on his shoulder. He took the discarded book and began where he left off. It was as though they hadn't been interrupted, but Hermione's mind still reeled.

She thought of how she was taken from her muggle upbringing, placed in a world where she felt a constant need to prove herself, only to end up in a realm that didn't want her. Except for him. He was as lost as she always felt, and together, they found a world of their own.

* * *

Asgard never looked more beautiful than when the sun was setting. The rainbow bridge glittered its multitude of colors under the sky that was splashed with pinks and purples. Even the sprinkled stars glowed magnificently, brighter and larger than they were on Midgard.

At the entrance of the rainbow bridge, stood Frigga and Loki. Frigga hugged her son, tears shining in her eyes.

"I am so proud of you," she whispered to him.

For the first time, Thor bowed to Hermione, kissing her knuckles, his beard pricking her. She chuckled. "Why are you bowing," she asked.

"Because, Granger, one day you will be a princess of this realm."

She had not given thought to that. There was a weight on her chest that only vacated when she looked to Loki who was softly speaking to his mother. With him, she could handle that.

Thor turned to his brother, his large hand clasping the side of Loki's face before tugging him into a forced hug. Loki looked so small in his embrace that she tried not to laugh.

Frigga touched Hermione's hair lightly. "You have done our realm a great service. We will not forget this."

"I haven't done anything," she insisted.

"You have melted his heart. The Allfather must not dismiss the decrees he set forth so easily, but I believe he will in time, and we hope that you will join us."

Hermione remembered the promise that she had made to Loki. "I will. Thank you," she added, "for letting him come with me."

The goddess' laugh sounded like music. "No, thank you, Hermione," she smiled, saying her first name for the first time.

A guard approached with Loki's horse. He greeted his favorite steed, patting down his neck. He drew himself over and pulled Hermione up behind him. She gripped his waist as he sped them down the rainbow bridge.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

It was the first time that Hermione had landed on her feet in her back garden. Admittedly, it was Loki who kept her up. She wondered if she'd ever land gracefully, or if she'd ever have a decent lawn.

"Welcome home," she said.

"Home indeed," he responded, squeezing her waist before opening the door.

As they passed through the kitchen, Hermione waved her wand, ensuring that a good pot of tea was being made as she showed Loki around. However, when they made their way into the living room, she realized they had a guest. Sprawled out on the couch was Harry who jumped to his feet at the sight of her.

"Hermione!" He brought her in his arms. "You're okay," he exhaled, as if reassuring himself.

"I'm fine, Harry." She kissed his cheek and let him go.

Harry visibly stiffened when Loki came in. "Thank you," he said tautly. He shook his hand, but snatched it back quickly and shook it as if he was bringing life back to it.

Hermione shot Loki a glare. She had a feeling that he was a bit colder than he normally was and knew he'd done it on purpose.

"Harry, why are you always in my house," she asked teasingly.

"I've been kipping on your couch waiting for you. I've been worried - we all have been!"

She nearly cursed under her breath. She'd forgotten that the last time Harry had seen her she was sick. She felt terrible, but then, "'we all?'"

"The last time I saw you, you were bleeding in your back garden. So, yes, Hermione, I told the Weasley's."

"Did you tell my parents?!"

He waved that away, "no, of course not. I know you like to keep the magical world separate from them. It's easier that way."

She breathed out in relief and then something occurred to her. She looked around. "If you've been kipping out here, where's Ginny?"

"She's in Bulgaria on tour."

"Oh." How much had she missed? "My bookstore -"

"I called Hannah and she's been covering for you."

She laughed shortly. "I owe her a raise. And I owe you a lot of dinners."

"I'm your friend, you don't owe me anything, but you might want to think of giving Hannah that raise."

"Done." She took off her jacket and laid it over the couch. Harry must have set up her thermostat because it was like a sauna.

Harry looked uncomfortable, taking in her marks. "Where did those come from?"

Hermione clapped her hand over her neck, but she knew that there were others. "It's fine. Trust me, Harry, don't ask questions."

He gave a sidelong glance to Loki. "Are you staying?"

"Yes."

"I should consult the Ministry, I can find you temporary housing-"

"He's staying here," Hermione insisted.

"Are you sure?" He squinted suspiciously at her. "Where's your wand?"

She brought her wand out from her pocket. "See? I'm not under duress, Harry. I'm okay. I promise. Go home, get some rest."

He backed his way to the door, not taking his gaze off of Loki. "I'm not far if you need me." It was a warning for him.

"I know."

He shut the door, leaving the two of them alone.

"You two are very close," Loki claimed icily.

"We've been through a lot," she dismissed.

"He was with you during the war."

She peered at him curiously. "How do you know that?"

"He looks at you like a man whose life had been saved. He owes you a debt."

"He owes me no such thing," she snapped, aghast. "He's my friend!"

"Did you," he asked, expecting a completely honest answer, "did you save his life?"

Hermione sunk herself to the couch. "He saved mine, too."

"What was your role in the war? Were you a soldier?"

She licked her cracked lips. "Harry was destined to defeat the most powerful wizard in the world. He had to search for a way to defeat him and I went with him. We were on the run for a year before the battle. The wizard was killed there."

Loki took a seat beside her. "That is quite the unbreakable bond."

Hermione looked sideways at him. "Are you jealous?"

His gaze hardened and he stared down at his hands. She took them in her own, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"He's like my brother."

"Good," he said deeply and darkly. "I was never one to share." He stood, bringing her with him, his gaze hard, telling of a man that needed to assert what was his. His hands pressed firmly on her shoulders, "kneel," he ordered.

Hermione obeyed, her knees meeting the hard wood floor. He unzipped his trousers, freeing himself.

"Open your mouth."

Again, she did as he said, and he pushed himself over her tongue. There was a sweet taste of him, so it was not entirely unpleasant. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, throwing back his head and moaned as she sucked, sliding her tongue underneath him.

Her jaw quickly became sore, but she didn't utter a single complaint. Not when Loki was so clearly enjoying it. She thrived on that, on pleasing him, and she knew he did as well.

He pushed fully into her, down into her throat and held himself there. Her nails dug into his thighs as her eyes watered and spilled, but he didn't relent, demonstrating his control. She choked and he groaned in pleasure at the feeling it gave him and he thrusted lightly.

He pulled out, aiding her to her feet, guiding her over the couch. She rested her forehead on her forearms as she felt him enter her. He wasted no time and pounded into her. She cried at the roughness, at the arm of the couch digging into her thighs, at the breath she lost with every push he gave. Despite it, or perhaps because of it, she came hard around him.

She laid there in her haze as she felt the bruises forming on her backside. Much later, he released himself into her, and she felt their mixed juices trickle down her leg.

He leaned down, placing a kiss between her shoulder blades, and she relaxed.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

A thick curtain that strongly smelled of coconut covered Hermione's face. She pushed her hair back and over her shoulder, squinting in the new light of the morning. She stretched out her arms, arching her back, feeling every sore muscle inside and out. She also felt a cold and empty side of the bed.

Loki was gone.

She stood, pulling on her night shirt and padded through the house. He was nowhere to be found, each room proving to be empty. She worried and wondered. Had he gone back to Asgard?

She peeked into the kitchen and found a breakfast laid out. A plate of pancakes, a cup of orange juice and next them a vibrant red rose. She found a note folded in half so it stayed up on its own.

 _Enjoy_

She sat and did her best to indeed enjoy the breakfast that he prepared, but she couldn't help prevent her thoughts from going to him. Where could he have been?

When she finished, she looked into her burnt back garden. However, the ground was no longer scorched, the runes were gone. Instead, there were wildflowers in blue, red, green and yellow. Her mouth opened and she stepped outside, the cool autumn air brushing against her skin.

She crossed her arms over her chest. She bent and touched a pink flower, and in a mist it was gone. An illusion. The whole garden was masked in Loki's magic.

"Does it please you?"

Hermione spun around. Loki stood in the doorway in black trousers, a white shirt, and a black jacket. He was breath-taking and for a long moment, she didn't answer.

"Does this please you," he asked again, obvious in his knowledge of his affect on her.

"This is beautiful."

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Come inside or you shall be sick."

She let him pull her into the warmth. She rubbed her arms, increasing her circulation. "Muggle clothes suit you," she said. "And where did you learn to cook muggle food?"

"I didn't, I ordered it."

"Where did you learn to work a phone?"

Loki's laugh (as was his smile) was contagious. "I was here for a while. I watched and I learned. I know much about your world and the workings of it."

"Where did you get the money," she asked skeptically, gesturing to his clothes.

"Paper. It is as real as your currency."

Skeptically, she inspected his face, refusing to use her magic to truly tell. "So it wasn't an illusion? You made money?"

He pressed against her, "not everything I do is an illusion or trick."

The low timbre of his voice sent chills through her. All thoughts of lecturing him for his ways of manipulation was forgotten as he kissed his way down her neck.

 _Whoosh_

"Whoa! Oi!"

Hermione jumped. Harry stood there, his hand up to block the two of him from his field of vision. She was very aware of Loki's hands on her, the skin where he kissed still tingling and hot.

"Harry James Potter, when will you learn to knock?!"

"Through a fireplace, Hermione?"

"Owl! Ring!" She stomped over, bringing his hand down.

"Excuse me, but I've never had to before."

"Next time you see me bring a man home, assume!"

Harry shook his head, "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't expect..."

Hermione's exasperation dissipated right then as her friend flustered nervously in front of her. She nearly doubled over in a fit of giggles. "Oh, Harry, you didn't think I was a virgin, did you?"

He cringed, "no - yes - I don't - no!" His cheeks were pink.

She continued snickering. "Why are you here," she asked.

"I wanted to invite you over to the Weasley's. They're worried about you."

Hermione bit her lip. She never wished to upset them. "I think I might have to find a job for Loki..."

"A job," Harry asked.

She shot him a look. "Well, what were you expecting him to do all day?"

"What did you do on Asgard," he asked him.

"I oversaw the odd trade but most of my time I was a warrior."

"A soldier," Harry said, impressed "we could use you."

Hermione gaped, "he can't be an Auror, you have to be British. He doesn't even have papers or an I.D. or a wand. How will you explain him?"

"We could say he's a foreigner? It's not like it's not true..."

She crossed her arms challenging. "Where did he go to school? Why is he's magic different?"

Harry ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't know, Hermione. One thing at a time. Anyway, he won't be an Auror. We can use him to train the young ones. I can pull a few strings, Kingsley can help me. It'll work out, Hermione, there are plenty of employees there that no one knows anything about. The Department of Mysteries," he pointed out. "What do you say?"

Loki smirked, "sounds fun."

Hermione spun toward him, her eyes wide, poking a finger at his chest. "Under no circumstances do you stab anyone!"

Harry coughed, "um, stab?"

Loki chuckled, grabbing her hand and kissing her hairline. "You have my word, not a paper cut."

"I must go to the bookstore," she muttered unconvincingly.

"Yeah, I have to go to work, too," Harry dipped into her fridge, taking out a bottle of Butterbeer. "I'll see you soon, and I'll call in warning!" He went to the living room and she heard the Floo.

Hermione shook her head lovingly. She knew very well that he wouldn't be dropping by like that again. Poor Harry. She was sure that he'd be warning Ginny and everyone else. It was a little disconcerting, that she had such a lonely life that no one had thought that she would be with anyone.

Loki made a noise that wasn't quite a growl. "And what shall I do?"

"Have you ever watched television?"

"That box that tells myths?"

"Yes, there's one in my living room. I'm sure you can figure it out."

He moaned, "is what you have to do important?"

"My job? Very."

He nipped at her collarbone, but stepped away. "When will you be back?"

She kissed his cheek. "Soon."


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**

Hermione had given Hannah her well-deserved raise and avoided her many questions (mostly pertaining to where she had been, what she'd been doing and if she was alright). She enjoyed the quiet of her office, sitting crossed-legged on the hard gray carpeting in front of a rather large package, ripping off the thick tape. The scent of fresh pages burst forth and she inhaled it deeply. It was perhaps her favorite part of the job. She ran her hands over the slick covers, lost in desire to pick them up to read them. It was her secret, that she would speed through one or two before they reached the shelves.

"You went to Asgard?!"

Hermione jumped, her heart nearly beating itself out of her chest. "What are you doing barging into my office?!"

Ginny stepped over the package and threw herself in the office chair. She was dressed in her dark green and gold Quidditch uniform, dirt crusting every inch of it. She pushed an escaped strand of red hair behind her ear, exhaling a disgusted huff at her friend.

"I thought you were in Bulgaria?"

"I thought you were in London," she retorted.

Hermione knew that was a fair response. She closed the flaps of the box, leaning her elbows on it. "I didn't mean to go to Asgard... The first time."

"Oh, spare me, Harry told me all about it. He also told me you brought something back with you. A god?"

Hermione blushed. "It's a long story, Ginny."

"I have time."

"Unfortunately, I don't -"

"You spend weeks in another realm, you can spend some time in this one with your friends."

She was right and Hermione knew it. "There's something I didn't tell Harry about the stone." She pointed her finger at her sternly, "don't tell him what I'm going to tell you."

Ginny leaned forward eagerly. "What about the stone?"

"It was a soulmate stone. Loki made it centuries ago."

She whistled lowly. "He waited for you for centuries?"

"Honestly, I think he gave up after the first few thousand." She shrugged.

"So you found your soulmate. And he's a god. And a prince. And the most mischievous, gray-area'd man in all the universes. Good job, Hermione. It could've been worse."

She laughed, and couldn't stop laughing. She thought of her absurd situation and the person waiting for her at home. It all seemed so surreal, that she hadn't actually took time to examine it.

Ginny watched her with interest. "You look happy."

"Are you saying I'm not a happy person?"

"You're a person that is very content, but not happy. He's brought out something in you. I think Harry was worrying over nothing."

"I know why he was worrying," she told her in whisper. She tugged her neckline down, showing Ginny the marks that remained.

Ginny whistled. "He did that?!"

"He's the rough sort. I didn't think it best to tell Harry about it."

"And you're smiling? Who knew..." Ginny stood, brushing off the clumps of dirt from her shoulder pads. "Don't worry, I won't tell Harry. I will tell him not to worry, though."

"Thank you, Ginny."

"You will be by mom's this Sunday, right? She's missed you. You can bring your god, if you like."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Gin. With what happened with Ron..."

"Mom got over that ages ago. She'd want to meet him."

Hermione nodded. "We'll be there."

Ginny winked at her and left.

Hermione spent the rest of her work day putting the new books away and helping many customers. When she left, she stopped by a local shop and bought dinner, but all thoughts of a private meal with Loki was extinguished when she opened her front door. Ginny was there on her couch with him, laughing.

Her old friend spotted her. "He's very charming," she told her in false-whisper making Loki's smile larger.

"He's been nicknamed Silver-Tongue." Hermione said, almost in warning.

"You'd know better than me."

Hermione blushed and Loki didn't bother to hide his amused chuckle. "Ummm... I bought chicken. Are you hungry, Ginny?"

"Oh no, Harry's cooking and he'd kill me if I missed tonight." She hugged her, whispering in her ear, "I only stopped by to meet him, to know if he was good enough. And he is." She waved at Loki, "it was nice to meet you. I have to run." She left through the fireplace.

Loki took the bags from her. "Let me cook tonight."

She followed him into the kitchen. "You know how to cook?"

"It's mandatory for warriors," he explained.

Hermione fell into the nearest chair. "That's a rather good idea," she muttered, distracted. She then sighed, "I'm sorry about Ginny..."

"I read all the books in your mini-library, the television is entertaining but I was thoroughly bored. She was a reprieve." He glanced over his shoulder at her. "Now, now, don't be jealous. I have no interest in the small red-head."

She watched Loki chopping the vegetables. She leaned sideways and saw that he wasn't using her knives, but a shining blue one of ice. She rolled her eyes, but smiled to herself. "I wasn't jealous."

A long moment of silence blanketed them until Loki suddenly turned to her. He appraised her with something akin to sadness, a crinkle between his brows. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes." It was true, she trusted him inexplicably, but that answer didn't pacify him. He still looked troubled and she went to his side, placing her hand over his, lowering the knife to the counter. "What's wrong?"

His voice was low and husky. "I need your trust, because I am asking everything of you. I am asking that you leave your realm, I am asking for your heart, your hand, and your life. You belong to me with no conditions.

"In return, I am yours. I will protect and love you beyond my last breath."

Hermione made him face her and Loki held the back of her neck. His green gaze drowned her, pulling her deeper in its abyss. She would never stop falling.

His forehead met hers. "I love you most desperately," he whispered, his minty breath a fan over her lips.

She clutched his wrists and he captured her mouth, kissing her deeply. She wound her fingers in his hair as he lifted her, placing her on the kitchen table. He undid the buttons of her blouse, sliding it over her shoulders.

She worked on the zipper of his trousers, but he pushed her hands away, moving to his knees. He tugged her jeans down her hips and legs, pushing them onto the floor. He forced her open, pushing two fingers inside of her and curling them toward him. She moaned loudly and he tasted the inside of her knee, up the inside of her thigh, and he met the spot that she so badly wanted him to meet.

Hermione leaned back as he worked his tongue inside of her, nipping occasionally at her folds. When her noises became loud, he pulled away and entered her.

It was sweet and sensual. He touched her everywhere, his fingertips grazing her skin; he kissed her breasts. She let out a sigh, wrapping her legs around him.

He met her hazed eyes and his hips jerked roughly against her. She whimpered, still bruised from their previous acts, but she relished the safety and freedom that she was given; the bitter-sweetness of it all. The table mercifully held up for nearly an hour, sturdy beneath them, and she reached and held the edge as she was brought over her own precipice. He came soon after, holding himself within her until he finished.

He wiped her hair away from her face and kissed her. She tasted herself on him, a hint of pumpkin.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty-One**

Barely awake, Hermione curled into Loki's side, his arm wrapping instinctively around her waist. Lazily, in a post-dream haze, she traced the long white scars over his abs, his muscles tightening under her touch. One was marked as an 'x,' two ends reaching under his ribs. She wondered about the story behind that one.

The tips of his fingers were covered in a thin layer of ice that he moved over every injury she sustained the night before. He brushed the impression of his teeth that blemished her shoulder and she could feel his pride in his work; in how sore she was. In a state of complete relaxation and pure bliss, she smiled.

That was until she spotted the luminescent numbers of the clock on her nightstand. It was late in the evening and the date read Sunday. She gasped, "Weasley's!"

"Bless you."

"No, no, no, Mrs. Weasley. She was expecting me over today." She rolled out of bed. "Get something decent on, they want to meet you."

Loki leaned forward, his forearms on his knees, appraising her with laughter in his eyes as she gathered their discarded clothing from the floor and throwing it in the hamper. "If they don't approve," he asked her.

She paused. "Um, well, I haven't thought of that..." Inclining over the bed, she placed her hand on his, "but, it won't matter." She pecked his lips. "Now come on, we don't want to be late."

She felt him watching her as she retreated into the bathroom. Finally, she was taking the long shower she had been too tired to take the night before. When she stepped out she felt renewed and properly awakened.

Of course, it would have taken hours for her thick hair to thoroughly dry, but she took her wand, and in one sweep it was, and in another it was detangled. It was perhaps one of the most useful charms she learned. She owed it to McGonagall who had taught the Gryffindor girls the most useful spells they would probably ever learn.

She dressed in jeans and a simple blue blouse. When she emerged in the living room, Loki was standing clean and wearing his usual black muggle garb. She suppose he wasn't big on colors, but she was hardly complaining as black was indeed his color.

"I only have one shower," she pointed out teasingly, "did you use magic?"

"You were in a hurry, I thought it best not bathe with you."

"That would have taken hours."

"There is always tomorrow." He opened the front door for her, but she stopped in front of her fireplace, taking a small red and black ceramic bowl from the mantle. He quirked a brow at her, and closed the door.

"Hermione, perhaps we should have you looked at."

She softly laughed, "my fireplace is connected to the Weasley's." She grabbed a handful of powder and threw it into the hearth, green flames shooting up.

Loki raised his brows, clearly impressed. "You did this with powder?"

She watched his expression as she slowly swept her hand through the licking flames. He watched with interest, doing the same. When he pulled out, he examined his hand back to front. "Very clever."

It occurred to Hermione then, that was often what Mr. Weasley said of muggle technology. Was that what the Wizarding World was to Loki? They were clever of what they used with their different magic?

She bent in and he followed.

"What now," he asked.

"The Burrow," she called out and they were swept away.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

Hermione and Loki exited the fireplace into the warm living room of the Weasley's. Loki ruffled the soot out of his hair and brushed it off his shoulders and arms. She tried to hide her pleasure at his discomfiture.

A small boy with pink hair raced past them, chasing a plush Hippogriff and yelling incoherently. Near the far wall, George was fighting with something in his grasp, standing beside Ginny and Harry who were on the couch, bent over a small board game situated precariously on their laps.

"Watch out!"

The ball hit Loki square in the face, knocking him backwards into the mantle. Hermione gasped and covered her mouth, but when she saw that no damage had been done, she could barely suppress her laughter. Ginny was not bothering to hide her amusement and was doubled up and shaking. Harry pursed his lips tightly shut.

"Sorry, mate." George went up to them. The ball had bounced back to him and was wiggling in his hands. "New product - haven't worked out the kinks yet. Who's this?" He jutted his chin at the god.

"My name is Loki Odinson of Asgard," he answered, pinching his nose.

"Ah, cool name," he responded, not as amazed as Loki had hoped for.

"This is George," she introduced. "He owns a joke shop."

George held up a strange box object he pulled from his pocket. "Are you interested?"

Loki took it, and out popped a large boxing mitt, aiming right for his face. This time, he dodged deftly.

"Wow! Great reflexes."

"Is this amusing," Loki asked disinterestedly, pitching it back to the man, but once it touched George's hand, it became a thin black snake.

George screamed, dropping the reptile to the floor where it vanished into a black mist. "What the hell?!"

"Scared of snakes," he smirked.

"Loki," Hermione reprimanded.

"Where did you dig this one up," George asked in shock.

"He dug me up," she answered shortly. "Excuse us," she added, snatching Loki's sleeve and dragging him away.

She found a corner away from young Teddy's route and away from the ear-shot of the others before she wheeled on him. "That was not nice!"

"Hermione, in less than three minutes, I went through a fireplace to be covered in soot and been hit in the face. I have rarely been that assaulted outside of battle.

"They're like my family," she pleaded with a slight edge to her voice, a warning that it was not up for debate.

He nodded his understanding. "From now on, I will regard them with respect," he promised.

Just then Ron came up, a stolen pastry in his hand (she knew it was stolen because his mother never allowed snacks before the meal). "Who's this," he asked through a mouthful.

"Charming," Loki commented under his breath, despite himself. She elbowed him in the ribs. Flinching, he amended himself, "I'm Loki."

Ron choked on his pastry. Hermione patted his back, but he waved her away. "Loki?!" His ears turned magenta. "Yeah, nice to meet you, I guess."

"You fought alongside Hermione," it sounded like more of a question than a statement.

He proudly puffed up his chest. "Yeah."

"Where is your mother, Ron," Hermione asked him.

He swallowed the last bit of the pastry, rubbing his fingers together to rid of the last crumbs. "Um, in the kitchen, but before you go, um, Hermione, can I speak to your privately?"

"Allow me," said Loki, "I think can give George some ideas for his shop." He bowed away, leaving Hermione to worriedly wonder what "ideas" he had. Hopefully none that would cause lawsuits.

Ron surveyed the god as if he was crazy. He then turned that look onto her. "So him," he gaped, "he - he isn't your type."

She raised her brows. "And you know what my type is?"

"He's too..." Ron trailed off, glaring at the man. "He reminds me of Salazar Slytherin. I don't trust him."

"I'm not asking you to. This is my choice, Ronald." She brushed off the excess crumbs off his Chuddly Canons sweatshirt.

"I'm allowed to worry about you."

She kissed his heated cheek. "Thank you for that. Now, I must see your mother."

The kitchen was hot under the intense heat of the stove. Plates and food flew themselves across the room, a pot was boiling over on the burner. Mrs. Weasley looked a little strained, but her plump face broke into a smile when she saw her.

"Hermione, dear!" The woman hugged her tightly. "We haven't seen you in weeks!"

"I've been busy, I'm sorry." She was very thankful that no one told her where she had been. Although, sooner or later, she would learn the truth. She hoped she wouldn't be around for that, but knowing Mrs. Weasley she would get an earful either way.

"Ginny told me you brought a guest."

"Yes, I hope that is alright."

"Oh, it's perfectly fine, dear. You and Ron broke up years ago and I've made my peace with that. I'd very much like to meet this new man."

At that moment, Loki came in. "We may meet now."

Mrs. Weasley blinked rapidly. Apparently, Loki was not the type of man that anyone saw her with. She wondered what they thought her type was exactly - not that she had one.

"It is a pleasure to meet you," Loki bowed.

Mrs. Weasley giggled, surprising Hermione. The last time she heard that it was for Gildery Lockhart and Loki was nothing like that man. Perhaps an adept liar was the best commonality. She tried not to smile as she guessed that was Mrs. Weasley's type.

"Oh, it is nice to meet you, too. Hermione has never brought someone else around."

"I thought it'd be inappropriate," she said in way of explanation.

"Because of Ronald? It's time he moved on and you're like family." She held out a ladle like a weapon, pointing it at her. "So come by more often and bring whoever you wish."

She smiled. "Yes, Mrs. Weasley." She looked around at the hundred of things going on. "Is there anything I can help with?"

"Yes, get out of my kitchen and join your friends."

Hermione laughed and did as she bade. Just as she sat next to Ginny to watch her game with Harry. Tiny molded figures on broomsticks hovered over the board. Ginny would prod a figure that way and Harry would prod his another. It was much like chess, except in the style of Quidditch.

After Ginny's four-time winning streak, Mrs. Weasley called them into the kitchen. They all gathered around the table as Mr. Weasley joined from outside, undoubtedly working on another muggle contraption. He greeted her and shook Loki's hand.

The dinner went by relatively well. There were, of course, questions of Asgard, and Loki answered them with grace, until George spoke.

"Why'd you demolish New Mexico?"

" _GEORGE!_ " It was Mrs. Weasley's turn to blush scarlet.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat, eyeing Loki's reaction. He didn't bat an eye, nor did he look ashamed.

"My brother was there. It was supposed to destroy _him_."

"Enough of that," Mrs. Weasley snapped.

George, however, had more questions. "So you don't age?"

"Very slowly."

"And you die?"

"Gods are always reborn."

George narrowed his eyes. "So what about Hermione?"

The silence pressed in. It looked as though George was not the first to wonder, as Harry found a great interest in spinning his fork round and round and Ginny looked to her sadly. Hermione glared at the jokster of the family.

Loki squared his shoulders. "There is a way to bind her to me in a way that her life will match mine."

Everyone fell silent again. Hermione straightened, steeling herself. "This is a ways away, of course."

He tensed beside her. "It doesn't need to be."

George waggled his brows at her and leaned back, as if his job was done. She could have hexed him.

Harry coughed awkwardly. "So... Mr. Weasley, what've you been working on lately?"

Poor Mr. Weasley seemed to be the most uncomfortable of them all. He straightened up and began talking about the great muggle invention of the internet. In fact, he babbled more than he actually talked, as if he was afraid George would ask another question if he stopped.

George, however, seemed be to done. That mood lightened considerably, and it turned to Quidditch and Ginny's career. Those things, which she had a marginal interest in, allowed Hermione to relax and enjoy the rest of the meal.

When dinner was done and everyone full, she helped Mrs. Weasley with the dishes while Ginny and the boys took Loki outside to show them what Quidditch was. He wasn't aware that brooms were used for flying and not for sweeping.

"He's a lovely man," Mrs. Weasley told her, waving her wand, plates and pots flying into the sink.

"He is." She cleaned the table with magic.

"Do you think you'll -"

"OI! That was a foul!" George's voice came through loud and clear.

"You bloody great git! That was your fault!" That was Ron.

Mrs. Weasley heaved a great sigh, ready to scream at her children, but Hermione held up her hands in their defense. "I'll see to them."

"Thank you, Hermione."

She went outside and saw the Weasley's in the air. George chucked a bludger at Ron's head, but he ducked.

"Oh, stop it," Ginny said, "it was your foul, Ron."

"That was not!"

"Mate, let's just play the game," said Harry.

Hermione stood by Loki watching his fascination. "What do you think?"

"Almost as violent as the sports in Asgard."

"Oh, please tell me no one's bleeding already?"

He chuckled, "no. Not yet."

Hermione sighed, wrapping her arms over herself. "Do you want to go home?"

"Yes."

Hermione called up to the Weasley's and Harry, saying goodbye and her and Loki went inside. He took Mrs. Weasley's hand, kissing her knuckles. "It was a pleasure to meet you."

Mrs. Weasley giggled like a school girl, her face as red as her hair. "Well, it was nice to meet you, too."

He followed Hermione to the living room. She hushed so only he would hear, "why do you bow?"

"It's polite."

"That is not the reason you do it."

Loki smirked to himself.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

It was Loki's first day at his job and so Hermione went to the bookstore. She sat at her desk, scanning the books. She then milled about the shelves, helping out the customers. A few hours in, after she aided a portly man searching for knitting patterns, she saw a particular red head at the entrance to her office. Her friend smiled, holding up a sack that undoubtedly held lunch.

"Hello, Ginny," she greeted, making their way into her office.

Ginny dropped the sack onto her desk, Hermione rushing to make room, pushing the books and papers to the side in a neat pile. "Thanks for lunch, Gin. I didn't know you were coming."

Ginny plopped herself into a spare chair, taking out a cup of noodles. "I have my motives," she said mysteriously.

"About Loki," she guessed.

"I'm happy for you, Hermione..."

"But?"

"Are you seriously considering binding yourself to him?"

Hermione took a deep breath, steadying herself. "Yes."

"Good."

That shocked her. "Good?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Did you think that we wouldn't be supportive? Look, I'm not going to pretend like I understand any of this. I don't know anything about Asgard - or even much of Loki for that matter, but every time you looked at him, you had this look on your face... You never had that with anyone. You always do everything for everyone else. Maybe it's time you did something for yourself. You've been alone for a long time."

She wasn't quite sure how to react to that, but while she wouldn't admit it, she had been lonely and their acceptance mattered. They all knew once she was bound, she would live long after them. She knew she was only on that planet for one lifetime and when nothing was left for her, she would leave for Asgard. That idea was painful, but being without Loki was not optional. She wanted him and it was the price was willing to pay: To live, to move to Asgard. He was worth it.

"Thank you, Ginny."

"Whatever for?"

"For all that you and your family have done for me."

"I think you've done more for us. And Harry agrees, by the way. He asked me to check in with you because he didn't want to leave Loki unattended."

"I haven't heard news of the Ministry being set on fire so I'll take that as things going well," she said and Ginny laughed.

When they finished, Ginny returned to the pitch, and Hermione went about the rest of her day. She was glad when she returned home, the balls of her feet aching from reaching up for books. It would have been easier if she could wave her wand, but many of the people that visited were muggles and she couldn't risk it.

She relaxed on the couch, kicking off her trainers, and placing her feet on the coffee table. She magically poured herself a glass of red wine and just as she took her first sip, a green light was cast over the room.

Harry and Loki stumbled through. Disgusted, Loki was brushing soot off the Ministry robe Harry made him wear. She even had to admit that he looked ridiculous wearing it, but perhaps that was due to seeing him in either muggle or Asgardian wear. Seeing him in a black robe with the M.O.M symbol on the front was odd to say the least.

Harry looked positively mad. "Your - Whatever he is..." He trailed off, his face a mask of anger.

Hermione thought it was a good time to take a very long drink from her glass. She then sighed and asked, "what happened?"

"Ask him!" Harry stormed off to the kitchen, and she could hear him in the fridge. Apparently everyone needed alcohol that night.

"Loki, what did you do," she asked calmly.

Before he could answer, Harry returned, a Firewhiskey in hand, pointing at the god angrily. "He wanted to teach them how to throw knives!"

Hermione suppressed a smile. "What did you think he was going to teach them, Harry? He's doesn't use a wand."

"He threw a knife at Poole!"

She gasped. "You told me you wouldn't stab anyone!"

"I didn't stab him, I threw it -"

"Between his legs. Hermione, between his legs. Poole nearly wet himself."

"Why," she asked Loki, in the same even and calm voice.

"He said that learning muggle tools was not useful. I showed him I could throw quicker than he could draw his wand."

She grimaced. "It could have been worse. Honestly, Harry, it was his first day. It's not like anyone was splinched."

"That's not all. Richardson said that none of this was practical so Loki took him to Jounatheim!"

Hermione gawked at him. "You took a young wizard to see Frost Giants?"

Loki looked lazily over at her, not a bit repentant. "This world may be under protection, but it is not a guarantee that they won't try to invade. I taught him a valuable lesson."

Harry was breathing hard, "Richardson went into shock and has frostbite!"

"Are you fired," she asked Loki.

Harry guffawed, answering for him, "no, he's not fired, but he will be if he keeps this up."

Hermione placed her hand on Loki's. "Next time, teach them defensive moves. No magic, no teleporting them anywhere, and no knife throwing."

"If you wish," he agreed, sounding bored with the idea.

"There you go," Hermione said encouragingly to her friend, who did not appear at all impressed.

He shrugged tiredly. "Fine. Now I just have to convince everyone that I didn't hire a crazy person."

"Thank you, Harry."

"Yeah," he groaned, downing the last of his Firewhiskey, throwing it in the bin in the kitchen. He gave a last threatening glare to Loki before he went through the Floo.

Hermione stared at Loki, shaking her head. "You had to cause trouble, didn't you?" She wasn't angry, not at all. A trickster god teaching Aurors? How could that have not gone wrong? The only reason she allowed it was knowing that Harry was there watching after them.

The corner of his mouth turned up. "It's what I do."

"Behave at work?"

"For you," he relented.

She put down her glass and rested her head against his shoulder. She chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully. "If you don't like it here, if you want to leave and return to Asgard, I understand."

He chuckled. "Wherever you are, is where I'll be."

"I want you to be happy, Loki."

"This is your life, beloved, I will live it as you will live mine. As long as you are at my side, I am happy."

Hermione swelled. She knew true joy had always evaded the god, so the thought that she could bring any to him was enough to satisfy her. She sat up, and embraced him around the middle, tightly, her ear pressed against his chest.

"Are you happy, Hermione?" His tone belied something more, something more worrying.

She nodded. She was happy. Their life, their future, it wasn't what she expected, but it was what she wanted.

"Then I must ask, where do I stand with you?"

"Where you stand," she questioned, pulling away.

Loki stood, stepping away, leaving her there coldly. "It may have escaped your notice that I confessed my love for you many nights ago."

Hermione sucked in her lips, wetting them. "Oh," she uttered. She hadn't said the words back. "I thought you knew how I felt..."

"Is it wrong to desire to hear them? Your actions speak for you, but your words are not meaningless."

She took a deep breath, standing, and resting her hands on the back of his neck. She brought him down to her and gently kissed him. "I love you," the syllables played on his lips.

Swiftly, he retreated and lowered himself to his knees. His hands slid down her jean-clad legs, resting on the back of her knees. Throwing his head back, he searched her eyes.

"Bind yourself to me."

Hermione sucked in a breath of shock. "Yes."

* * *

A/N: This is it! Thank you!


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